


The Skelliger Tales

by Pantea_Ateia



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Canon Compilant (more or less), Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Politics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-11-03 18:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 100
Words: 81,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantea_Ateia/pseuds/Pantea_Ateia
Summary: I've seen many things on my journeys: Great Sea, Continent, Skellige Isles and what lays beyond. I've met sailors, who sailed through a hundred storms. I heard tales of heroes and deeds of old. But I haven't learned a more extraordinary story, that the one I heard on Faroe in the early autumn, many years ago. I wish I had heard more and could remember it better.





	1. Svanrige Lammas 1261

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.

THE SKELLIGER TALES

 

Prologue

 

CALM

 

SVANRIGE

 

Lammas 1261  
the stronghold  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

Svanrige was standing next to his father and uncles, watching the crowd gathered in the great hall of the stronghold in Kaer Trolde. The feast was impressive, but the reason behind it was equally significant. Jarl Holger Blackhand was coming to Ard Skellig with his daughter after one of the most successful raids on Ebbing, that has ever been undertaken - as far as the memory of Skelliger goes. Those two did something, what has never been done before.  
Holger has been one of the living legends of the Isles, already. And three of his children were following in his footsteps. However, with fame there goes a price. His eldest son, Trygve - the heir to the seat of the jarl of Faroe - was not allowed to leave the Isles for some time by now, due to threads his father received. Unnecessarily to say, the young man was furious. He demanded, that if he is to be the jarl, his younger brother shall be under the same restrictions, not to exceed him in his deeds. Halbjorn, the youngest of Holger's children was unwilling, but the word of his father was a law. So, both sons of the famous throughout the Great Sea pirate were grounded and couldn't leave the Skellige Isles and archipelago waters. It was only their sister, called by her nickname - Carnelian, who fully enjoyed the pirate's life at her father's side since she was fourteen. A legend of the young, red-headed, beautiful female pirate, here on Skellige Isles, was growing rapidly.  
Many jarls were planning to convince Holger to marry her to one of their sons and equally as many failed to persuade him. But this year, she was nineteen and it was high time to make a choice. His father, Bran an Tuirseach, had two considerable advantages in this pursuit: Svanrige and Carnelian were... close for years by now. However, no promise has ever been made. Moreover, first Bran and now his brother, Eist, held a title of the King of Skellige. The title, which - hopefully - one day would pass to him.  
The arrival of awaited guests, who were late - obviously - was announced by the infamous Hallowed Horn, blown by Holger himself.  
“Holger!” – Eist exclaimed. – “And, of course, captivating as always, Carnelian!”  
His uncle was right. She was wearing graphite trousers and shirt, but on top of that there was a dark red coat, in the colour of Burgundy, with exotic ornaments and on her long neck there was a necklace of white gold and diamonds – spoils of the raid, for sure. She was a vision, even without her double swords on her back.  
“Eist! Long time, my friend!” – Holger came to greet them.  
“Your Grace” – Carnelian said and bowed politely.  
“You are becoming more dangerous and more beautiful every time I see you, lassie” – Eist stated and shook her hand.  
She only smiled gently and moved to approach him.  
“Svanrige! How are you?”  
“Better” – he answered with a smile and kissed her extended hand, looking her deep in the eyes.  
Her smile widened, but she only bowed her head slightly and joined her father, who was already telling stories about their raid.

It was after an hour, as he was sitting with Hjalmar, Cerys and Carnelian when he heard his father saying at the main table to all gathered jarls and the king:  
“So, Holger. Have you made your decision? Your daughter needs a husband and she is at the right age, some would even say, that she is quite old for marriage. But we all know, that she is not inexperienced, either.”  
“Do you think, that because your son fucks her from time to time, he is the only possible candidate?!” – Madman Lugos exclaimed. – “My son is more than ready to take his turn.”

At that comment, everyone at the main table laughed, but Holger only smiled slightly.  
“Oh, c'mon Holger, she is a force of nature. Even Lugos here said what he said more out of respect than anything else” – Donar an Hindar stated. – “She is one of us, she is a pirate and we take what we want. There is nothing wrong with that, but... there comes a time to, at least officially, settle down.”  
“We made our decision with Kerstin a long time ago, my friends” – her father stated calmly. – “She'll make this decision for herself when it would please her. She has two brothers and Trygve is already married, my legacy is secured. There is no reason to rush her or to push her in anyone's direction.”  
“This wife of yours has you wrapped around her finger, I hope you know it!” – Lugos exclaimed.  
“But at least I know, what I'll do the second I'll see her and I know, that she'll like it very much. You know, my friend... we share the bedroom: every single night” – he paused. – “But... I heard, that Hulda lives permanently in Holmstein, not in Kaer Muire for some time by now” – Holger, the head of the clan Dimun, stated with a smirk.  
“Fuck you” – Logos, the head of clan Drummond barked.  
“No... this is not an option” – was the reply.  
Everyone laughed again and they drunk to Kerstin's amazing tits...

_Our fathers... It's really too much to listen to, but... Did she know, that it is her choice? That she can marry me anytime she wants?_

His thoughts were interrupted by Carnelian's husky whisper:  
“I heard enough of this and it's going to get worst, soon. Come upstairs...”

He still heard the sounds coming from downstairs when he was following her. She, obviously, paid no mind to some Islanders, observing them curiously on their way. One of the old warriors he passed shouted to him laughing:  
“Are you sure, boy, that you can handle such a force of nature?”  
“He can, Vilmar” – she shouted down the staircase from the floor above them.  
He smiled involuntarily... Carrie was always so sure of herself and of him. More than he was. Even on their first night together, when they were both as green as grass. But it was some years ago...

_Still, it's not easy to be sure of yourself in a presence of a person, who ventured the Path of Warriors a year before you... She is a year older, that's true... But, well..._

 

 _Blathe 1260_  
_Yngvar's Fang_  
_An Skellig_

 _He was waiting for her with her brothers at the end of the tunnels. She left to climb the mountain two hours ago and he started to worry slightly by now._  
_“She will come back” – Trygve stated calmly, but his face was expressionless._  
_“You care for her, don't you, Svan?” – Halbjorn asked, looking at him._  
_“I do” – he replied._  
_“It's more than just...” – Halbjorn continued._  
_“Yes... Yes, it is” – he replied again._  
_“Well, you were always like a brother to us. It'll be good to have you as part of the family one day, Svan” – Trygve stated with a small smile._  
_“You think, that she will...?” – Svanrige started, but finished with: – “Never mind.”_  
_“It's hard to say. One of her most notable traits is the fact, that she is unpredictable. Just... never take her for granted. I remember when father decided to ground us. I was sure, that in an act of solidarity, she would decide to stay too. But, even as a fourteen-years-old, she laughed so hard, that she fell from the chair. When she could speak again, she just looked at our father and asked: 'when are we to sail out?' She was on her first serious raid the same year, taking advantage of our absence to some extent... She loves us, I know, but... never believe, that you know what she'll do, because she'll do, what she pleases, no matter the consequences” – Trygve stated with a smirk._

 _Just then, Carnelian emerged from the tunnels almost unscratched. They all congratulated her and her eldest brother handed her a shield of the clan Dimun, a symbol of becoming one of the warriors of the clan founded by Broddr himself. She smiled widely and approached Svanrige:_  
_“And now... come, let's have some sex in the forest to celebrate this victory!” – she whispered seductively and took his hand, dragging him between trees._

 

“Svanrige! Are you still with me?” – her voice called him back when he closed the door of his room. The same room he has always stayed in when he was in Kaer Trolde with a visit to his uncle - Crach an Craite.  
“Yes, Carrie. Come here...” – he answered smiling.  
“Hmm... You are still pondering about something, my dear... What is it?” – she asked, approaching him and undressing on her way.  
When she stood in front of him, she was already naked. He admired her body, the incredible lines and shapes he knew by heart, but was sure never to cease to be amazed by. Her beautiful red hair was shorter than usually, but curly as always. Her flint-grey eyes were observing him attentively. He answered after a long while:  
“I will take the Path as soon as we come to An Skellig.”  
“And I'll come with you to wait patiently in Urialla.”  
“For the victorious sex?”  
“Obviously. It is the best, after all. Remember the raid on Kerack?”  
“Fondly. And if I remember correctly, there was something very interesting we did, as we came back...”  
“Hmm... Possibly” – she grinned at him and started to walk towards the window. Then, she opened half of it and sat at the windowsill.  
He followed her shorty, undressing on his way. Soon, he was touching her sensitive spot gently until she was ready for him. Then, he slid inside her, causing her to moan. They made love loudly, allowing their voices to fill the air inside and outside the stronghold. Even the echo was moaning after them. They went to sleep maybe an hour later.

When he woke up, he was alone in bed. Again.

_She knows perfectly well how I hate it, but still... she leaves without a word.  
_

When he descended to the main hall, he heard her conversation with the famous witcher - Geralt of Rivia. She was talking enthusiastically about the journey - she planned to venture alone with Geralt - to hunt the Ekhidna, which had its lair in Redgill. She didn't even plan to take her crew... Svanrige felt anger and jealousy so strongly, as he had never felt in his life. He entered the main hall and demanded:  
“Can I speak with you alone, Carrie? Preferably outside”.  
“Of course. Geralt, I'll be back shortly” – she replied with a polite smile and followed him to the terrace.

Once outside, he gathered himself to say:  
“You left again. Without a word, again.”  
“I...” – she looked at him confused.  
“You what?”  
“You were asleep so sweetly, that I didn't want to wake you up.”  
“You know, that I hate it.”  
“You are exaggerating now.”  
“No, Carnelian. I am not” - he replied angrily.  
“So what now? Are you going to shout at me and then what?”  
“It may never happen again. I mean it.”  
“And if it would, then what?”  
“Are you asking just to mock me?”  
“Obviously, what you're saying is not worthy of anything else.”  
“Will you marry me, Carrie?” – he asked in a different voice, softer and warmer. She stared at him with wide eyes before she exclaimed:  
“What?! Are you out of your mind? Why are we talking about it now?! You're eighteen and I'm nineteen, we have plenty of time for such decisions. How the discussion about leaving you in the bed turned into this?”  
“Fine. You know... I can manage on An Skellig on my own. Stay here or go back home. I don't care” – he stated leaving her.  
“But Svanrige... Svanrige! I...” – he heard her calling after him, but paid her no mind.

The same day he packed his belongings, gathered his crew and sailed North-East, back home. From the moment his drakkar left the port, he knew, that it might have been the biggest mistake of his life. But there was no return now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> in one of the comments, one of you recommended music to listen to while reading the chapter and I thought, that more of you may have such recommendations. If so, write a comment and I will include them in the End Notes. 
> 
> For the first chapter I make the recommendation myself:
> 
> Klaus Badelt “One last shot”


	2. Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.

THE SKELLIGER TALES

 

Part I

 

WIND

 

_Hard is it on earth, with mighty whoredom;_  
_Axe-time, sword-time, shields are sundered,_  
_Wind-time, wolf-time, ere the world falls;_  
_Nor ever shall men each other spare._

~ Poetic Edda Völuspá

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trevor Morris, Steven Richard Davis, Steve Tavaglione, Brian Kilgore, Tina Guo, Mel Wesson „Seduction”


	3. Toruviel Yule 1263

Vivo

 

TORUVIEL

 

Yule 1263  
the camp  
near Little Marsh  
Temeria

Outside the tent a cold wind was blowing strongly. Winter was becoming colder every day. Even here the weather was not spoiling them. But, inside the tent it was bearable. Toruviel was lying leisurely on her back with a man between her tights. Right now, his mouth was quite occupied, but she had no mind for talking, either. The only sound, which was escaping her mouth was a soft moan. Her legs were resting on his back and right now, all of her body started to spasm and her heels may have pushed a little bit too hard, but he didn't mind. There were truly not many things he minded, especially when he was so close to chasing his own pleasure, as well.  
“Hmm...” – he murmured curiously, looking at her from above, kneeling between her spread legs.  
A moment later, he moved closer to her face, entering her in the process. Her legs moved on their own accord around his waist and her arms encircled his neck. His hands were on both sides of her chest and his thrusts became deeper and faster gradually. She moved one of her hands down to her clitoris and to her surprise, she managed to keep up with his pace. They came together shortly after with loud moans.  
“Probably too loud...” – he stated with a smirk and released her from the weight of his body.  
“Hmm...” – she just murmured watching him dress up.  
“Toru, we need to go” – he stated and shook his head at her playful smirk. – “We'll have visitors shortly.”  
“You are wary of him, aren't you?”  
“Whom?”  
“Isengrim Faoiltiarna. You are nervous” – she stated matter-of-factly.  
“Obviously not. I've known him since I was five” – he replied with indignation.  
“But now, you are thinking if he approves of your decisions as a commander. The youngest, as I heard.”  
“I... OK. I am a bit. He is like an older brother to me and you know, that I haven't really had a father. And he is, maybe not appointed but still, something like the leader for all of us. So...”  
“You want his approval” – she stated standing up. – “You are a good commander. Stop double guessing yourself.”  
“Yeavinn is older, he should...”  
“Leave Yeavinn out of this tent, please” – she said strongly.  
“Is he...? Toru, I don't want any argument over something so trifle. If he is uncomfortable, we must stop at once.”  
“He doesn't know what he wants. Lastly, it was Saraid...” – she stated coldly. – “Don't be silly, we are Aen Seidhe, we share.”  
“Yes, we do. But... I do not wish for any quarrel” – he replied, putting on his weapons.  
“How long do we know each other? Fifteen years? You know, that I wouldn't endanger this commando for sex, even with you” – Toruviel replied with finality in her voice.  
“Sometimes I'm not sure, if you come to me because you want to or because you don't want to commit to him too much. You've fallen in love with him, Toru. I can see that.”  
“I... I don't know, either. But... I'm not planning to ponder about it for too long. We'll see what the future brings.”  
“The wind is blowing from the West today. What the future will bring is snow” – he chuckled.  
“You are mocking me.”  
“I am. But, right now, we must hurry. I need to check the camp before...”  
“The inspection. You see it as an inspection. Don't pretend otherwise.”  
“OK. I won't” – he said with an unsure smile and moved to leave the tent. But just before he left, he added: – “You know... You should be the commander. Everything would be easier.”  
“I know. One day, I will” – she answered chuckling. – “But, right now, I'm quite comfortable where I am, mind you. After all, it is you, who is waiting for the inspection and possible scolding, not me. I see only advantages of my position” – then she started to laugh openly at him.  
“You are great” – he stated coldly and left.

She dressed up slowly, thinking about this whole conversation. But she knew, that she should join them outside, so she emerged from the tent. Once outside, she shivered from the cold immediately.  
They haven't seen Isengrim for a while now and she was pondering how he was. Maybe he would bring good news? Maybe something is changing? But more possibly the news would be the same as always: recruit and wait. But everyone was getting tired of waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beyoncé “No Angel”


	4. Yaevinn Yule 1263

YAEVINN

 

Yule 1263  
the camp  
near Little Marsh  
Temeria

Their camp was growing, as was the commando. Twenty men and women were fighting together under Iorveth's command by now. It was quite impressive. The commando was mostly made of Aen Seidhe from Temeria and Cidaris, as himself. Only Iorveth and Toruviel came from Blue Mountains and it gave them a considerable advantage, for example: the command.  
Yaevinn looked at Iorveth's tent just in time to see him emerging from it and heading to check the rest of the camp. Yeavinn stood there for a while only to see, what he expected to see – Toruviel emerging from the same tent with a small smile, just a few minutes later.

_Obviously..._

He approached her and began in a mocking voice:  
“You should do something with your hair. You look messy.”  
“Yeavinn, just correct them. It's not so hard and I can't see” – she said with a smile.  
“Me? You should have asked the person, who brought you to such a state” – he replied coldly.  
“What do you want?” – she asked coldly now.  
“Nothing.”  
“Exactly, you've already said that to me some time ago, remember? We are walking in circles...”  
“Forget, what I said” – he stated, turning around and heading to Finnoladh, leaving her standing slightly dumbfounded.

He glanced back at her from a distance and she looked exactly the same as the first time they've met. Internally, he was still debating whether he is grateful or whether he curses the day he laid his eyes on her for the first time.

 

 _Feainn 1262_  
_Wyzima_  
_Temeria_

 _The outskirts of Wyzima, as they were called officially, were rather slums. Buildings were made of wood and thatched roofs. Many of them didn't even have windows. He was living alone in the last house by the pool in the direction of the forest. He spent most of his days as a poacher and a smuggler. To tell the truth, there was not much more to do for a Seidhe here._  
_Just as he stood in front of an old mill, by many considered a haunted place, he overheard a conversation in Hen Llinge:_  
_“We can run straight to the forest...” – one female voice stated._  
_“But the soldiers are waiting for us to do so” – the other female said. – “No... there must be another way to get away with these weapons.”_  
_“There is” – he said calmly, entering the mill – “by the water and to the forest down South.”_  
_Both Seidhe were aiming at him from their bows, but as they realised, that he is a Seidhe, they lowered their weapons. One of them had long, blond hair and green eyes. The other had raven-black hair with two thin plaits braided at her temples and pitch-black eyes. She looked predatory and wild. For a moment, he held his breath at her sight._  
_“My name is Toruviel aep Sihiel” – she stated. – “And this is My'aena.”_  
_“Pleasure to make your acquittance. I heard you well, but for me, you are more a Cerbin than Toruviel.”_

 _She looked at him pointedly and smiled. Then, she spoke again:_  
_“Would you join our fight?”_  
_“Fight?” – he replied with a question._  
_“Against them: filthy, barbarian pavienn...”_  
_“You are one of those, who are called Scoia'tael, aren't you?”_  
_“Yes. So, how will it be? Do you stay here, in the slums or... do you prefer our forest?”_  
_He didn't hesitate, before saying:_  
_“Just let me gather my belongings and I'll guide you away from here.”_

_Before leaving the mill he looked back and saw her looking at him, as well. Then and there he knew, that he would follow her anywhere. Even to the depths of the hell itself._

 

It was a week later, as they arrived at the camp when he understood, that she is already following some else. A young, black-haired Seidhe with green eyes. At the same time, he realised, that he's not only Toruviel's commander, but also a friend and time-to-time lover and they knew each other for fifteen years...  
His relation with the slightly younger man quickly became complicated. The first night in the camp they spent on a threesome. But, as pleasurable as it was, it was also... the beginning of the problem. Only a few days later, he felt, that the mere presence of Iorveth near Toruviel is making him see red. Jealous. He had never thought, that it would ever happen to him, but... there he was: possessive. Falling in love with a woman, who was practically a stranger and quasi-taken, too.  
Toruviel on the other hand, was manoeuvring between both of them, seemingly totally oblivious to what was happening. Yaevinn and Iorveth had a fight two months later, not even a month ago. Not about her, obviously, but... both knew, that she is the main reason behind their quarrel. They reconciled quickly and had a conversation... No, THE conversation:

 _“Yeavinn, I... If you mind, it stops. I've already told you that many times before.”_  
_“Of course I don't mind. We shared before as we are shared by women here. It's how it works and I enjoy it, but... one day I will ask the same of you and you won't refuse.”_  
_“Obviously, why would I? As you said: it is what we do.”_  
_“Hmm... Let's drink to that, fraere.”_

Iorveth was ready to leave Toruviel for good, but Yeavinn was no fool. She was not this kind of a woman to accept any arrangement they may make. She and only she could decide about her relationships. If he had accepted Iorveth's offer – she would never come back to him, of that he was more than certain. So Yeavinn gave up, reassuring the younger Seidhe, that he and Toruviel can do whatever they please. He clenched his jaw and fisted his palms the second he said it, but... he still did.  
Additionally, Iorveth was the commander. Not that he was bad at it – to the contrary: the Seidhe had an impressive intuition and was a skilled fighter. Still... following his orders never came easily. But Yeavinn knew as well, that if he tried to undermine him, it would look as pettiness and jealousy, so he never did.  
Just right now the younger Seidhe was approaching him slowly:  
“Yeavinn, we...”

But he never finished. They heard a whistle and Iorveth answered quickly. Just then, from the forest to the East, a group of five riders emerged. At their head was a proud and handsome Seidhe on a bay horse. His long, dark brown hair was falling in graceful waves on his shoulders and his ebony eyes were carefully scanning the surroundings. He looked impressive. His horse stopped before them and he got down with studied grace. He was wearing a crimson shirt with dark brown trousers and coat. For a man, who has been fighting for half a year already, he was still the impersonation of Aen Seidhe elegance. With calm face he approached them and stated:  
“Fraere” – just before hugging Iorveth brotherly.  
“And you are?” – Isengrim looked attentively at him.  
“Yeavinn, it is an honour, commander” – he answered politely.  
“Fraere” – the man said with a smile – “and it's a pleasure. Now, come... show me what you've built here” – he motioned to the camp and went inside.  
Iorveth looked at Yeavinn unsure, but followed.

_So this is an inspection. Interesting._

Yeavinn chuckled to himself before entering the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James Blunt „You're Beautiful”


	5. Isengrim Yule 1263

ISENGRIM

 

Yule 1263  
the camp  
near Little Marsh  
Temeria

A day after he arrived at Iorveth's camp, he was sitting with him by the breakfast, while most of their men was still deeply asleep. The snow was falling slowly to the ground all around them and the white fluff was already covering the ground and trees around the clearing. They were sitting in warm furs, but still the cold was noticeable.

_Our first winter in camps. It's not easy, but we will survive... We always do._

“I see, that you have no problems with provisions” – he said to the younger Seidhe.  
“No. There is plenty of game and we managed to steal more clothing.”  
“You are doing great, fraere. I hope, that you know it.”  
“I know. I thought, that you have come here to plan something...” – Iorveth said looking at him curiously.  
“Yes and no. I wanted to make sure, that you are fine” – he smiled fondly – “but there is something I was discussing with Coinneach Da Réo not long ago and we may use your help. Your commando is growing rapidly.”  
“Many Seidhe from here have reasons to join us.”  
“Yes... yes, they do. Your recruitment strategy is working” – Isengrim stated proudly.  
“We are doing our best. It is risky: to send men to the cities on missions for some trivia and to make them pretend, that they need help, but... it worked out well. Especially Toru is an expert in being a damsel in distress” – both chuckled at this statement. – “This is how we recruited Yeavinn. He knows how to hunt and how to fight, this is more than many of my men could do when they joined us.”  
“I noticed... Tension.”  
“He's fallen in love with Toru, or at least, it's what I suspect.”  
“But she is in your tent right now, isn't she?”

Iorveth swallowed loudly and cleared his throat before answering:  
“Yes.”  
“Does he know, that she played him?”  
“No.”  
After the last answer, Isengrim raised an eyebrow. There was a moment of silence before the older Seidhe continued:  
“Do you believe, that a woman – and you know that I like Toru immensely, but still – is worthy of such a petty quarrel with a brother?”  
“He never said, that it bothers him, I've asked a thousand times. And... isn't it what we do? We are the free Aen Seidhe: passionate and unbounded.”  
“Yes, but sometimes... even we can become possessive.”  
“I cannot even imagine myself... C'mon” – Iorveth stated shaking his head.  
“Me neither. Maybe it will never happen or maybe it didn't happen yet. But remember where your priorities lay. Most importantly: never ever abuse your position. Only a weak leader uses his or hers power to please himself or herself and you are many things, fraere, but not weak.”  
“I won't disappoint you” – the younger Seidhe replied slowly.

There was a long silence when both men were deep in their thoughts. It was Isengrim, who broke it again:  
“Do you trust me, Iorveth?”  
“Always and with everything, you know it, fraere. Why did you ask?”  
“I may have a plan for you to implement. But... it's neither easy nor safe.”  
“Just say a word.”  
“The Order of the Flaming Rose. They are attacking us already, even before the dh'oine kings decided to fight against Scoia'tael. We need to bleed them.”  
“Where?”  
“You'll go to the riverbank of the Adalatte river. They have an outpost much too close to Brokilon. Lady Eithné requires our assistance.”  
“We'll move in the spring.”  
“No... wait till summer, the marshes are dangerous during the thaw.”  
“OK. In Feainn, then.”

When he was leaving two days later, he looked back and saw Iorveth and Yeavinn standing calmly on the edge of the camp. He felt gusts of wind blowing in his direction, throwing the snowflakes in his face. Then, he spun his horse and rode into the forest, but an inexplicable worry didn't leave his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Pemberton „The Politics & The Life”


	6. Toruviel Birke 1263

TORUVIEL

 

Birke 1263  
the camp  
near Little Marsh  
Temeria

The spring was coming, carried by the South-Eastern, warm wind and even first leaves could be found on the trees. She was walking slowly to Yeavinn's tent. For the last month, they became... distant. At the same time, his relation with Iorveth was changing for the better. She knew how egoistic it was to go to him right now, to risk the balance they've all reached but...

_Oh, I miss him. Even the last time I wished... Ah..._

She spread slowly the material of the tent and saw him sitting and making a trap. He looked at her with surprise and asked:  
“Toru. Is everything all right?”  
“Yes... I... wanted to see you” – she answered quietly.  
“Oh... Well, is there any particular reason?”  
“I want to make love to you.”  
“And Iorveth? Is he busy?” – he asked in a mocking voice.  
“Why do you bring him into this conversation?” – she asked irritated in return.  
“You know... as we are talking about the commander... he told me to ask you about the day we've met, if I have the occasion. What did he mean?”  
“Fuck... You won't like the answer” – she stated calmly, a little bit resigned.  
“I still want to hear it.”  
“It was a ruse.”  
“What?!” – he exclaimed.  
“I warned you” – she replied slowly.  
“Explain” – he demanded.  
“I invented it with Iorveth, quite a while ago: a plan to recruit more Aen Seidhe for our commando.”  
“Yours?” – he asked with raised eyebrow.  
“Yes, Yeavinn. Ours. I may be his lover, that is true. But I am, first and foremost, his second in command. It is our commando. Continuing: we were pretending to be damsels in distress. We played you to react exactly as you did.”

He closed his eyes before replying:  
“You were right. I didn't want to hear it.”  
“Told you...”  
“So, did you come here with an order?” – he asked angrily.  
“To undress?” – she half-asked half-stated and smirked at him, biting her lip.  
He hid his face behind his hands, before looking back at her.  
“I show you mine when you show me yours” – he stated with half-surrendering and half-playful voice.

Once undressed, she wasn't sure why she choose this position, neither comfortable nor quickly pleasuring.

_We have time... Don't we?_

Nor was she sure, why she was thinking about that... But still, she straddled him facing his feet and she took him into her mouth, allowing him to...

 _Ah..._  
...occupy himself with her womanhood. They came like that quite satisfied. But it was when he motioned her to turn around and to sit on his lap, while he held her close to his body, moving leisurely up and down with her, as she realised – looking in those big, brown, predatory right now eyes – that she has already fallen in love with this man too deep and nothing would be simple anymore.

She emerged from Yeavinn's tent in the morning, only to find Iorveth already by the fire. She approached him and she asked angrily:  
“Why did you tell him to ask me about the day we've met?”  
“He deserved to know. But... as I see, it worked out well” – he stated slightly irritated.  
“You know... You are like a wind. You start slowly, growing gradually, but when you're gone, you leave nothing behind. Like a hurricane” – she replied coldly.  
“I didn't leave you, Toruviel...”  
“No, but I do, at least for a while. I'm taking Yeavinn and we are going recruiting. We'll be back in the winter” – she stated with finality in her voice.

Iorveth was silent for a long time, just looking her in the eyes. In the end, he stated:  
“OK. Look for us near Brokilon, probably the Adalatte river. We are moving there.”  
“Fine” – she said and went back to the tent.

She wasn't sure, why she was so angry with him, but she was. She looked straight at the sun and stood like that, pondering, for a long time.

_Going on our own would be the best option. We all need time._


	7. Ragnar Birke 1264

Allegro

 

RAGNAR

 

Birke 1264  
Fiddler's Green Bay  
South from Kerack  
Kerack

In the early morning, they were nearing the small bay in Kerack but from the distance, they noticed a ship tilted in a strange way.  
“Sinking ship” – Mannix stated with no emotions.  
“The colours? Do you see?” – Vendela asked.  
“Temerian lily” – Mannix answered. – “Captain?”  
Margo was watching the ship pensively. Then, they all saw a fire on it. It was dangerous, but the captain still ordered:  
“We turn around! Prepare to tuck!”  
They got to the sinking navy ship in half an hour. There was not much of it any longer, but he noticed a man drifting in their direction on a board, so he shouted:  
“Man overboard!”  
“I see! Ragnar, observe him! Viggo and Niklas to the rim, pull him out! Yngve, we need to slow down a bit!”  
They all shouted: Ready! And prepared to take the man out of the water. A few minutes later, he was aboard, but unconscious. Ronja was resuscitating him until he started to breathe, but he didn't wake up.

It was noon and spring this year has already been incredibly warm. The wind was blowing softly from the South and the waves were flooding over their drakkar lazily. The day was great for sailing but, unfortunately, they were nearing the beach in a small bay they knew so well.

_What a pity... It's for the days like this we are pirates... And the boat means freedom._

He looked at Margo, who was standing at the foredeck and observing the bank intently. She turned around and shouted:  
“Niklas! Viggo! To the mainsail halyards!”  
“Ready!”  
“Mainsail down!”  
“Down!”  
“We drift! Yngve to the anchor!”  
“Ready!”  
“Anchor down! Nice and easy, Yngve! Report!”  
“It reached the bottom!”  
“Wait! All right. We are steady. Ragnar! Prepare to leave the boat with hawser!”  
“Ready!”  
“Go to the nearest tree!”  
“Going!”

He jumped to the shallow water and went slowly to the nearest tree. He tied quickly a clove hitch and shouted:  
“Ready!”  
“Crew! Prepare to leave the boat!” – was the last order of their captain.

They all got ashore. The leaves on the trees were starting to grow and the grass was greener here than on Faroe. It was a good decision to go raiding to Kerack, at least the weather was better here.  
They dragged the unconscious man ashore and Margo tried to wake him up. It worked: his eyes opened and he looked at their captain, asking in a hoarse voice:  
“What...?”  
“Give him water” – Margo ordered and as he was drinking, she continued: – “Your ship sunk. You were lucky, that we were in the vicinity. You are in Kerack. Can you walk?”  
“There was an explosion... the powder...” – the man said, trying to stand up.  
“Some idiot smoked the pipe below the deck, it happens” – Ragnar stated.  
“You saved my life” – the man looked at them in disbelieve. – “My name is Jon...”  
“Pleasure to make your acquittance, Jon and I don't really care. But we must go on our way as must you. Our business is our own” – Ronja stated firmly.  
“Obviously. But... I owe you my life. What can I do in return?” – he said in a stronger voice.  
“Do you see this bracelet?” – Margo showed him the bracelet with three black pearls, which her father gave her six years ago – “If you meet a person, myself or any other, in need wearing this bracelet: you will repay your debt. And never ever speak about this meeting to anyone, not even your own wife.”  
“I will and I will keep your secret” – the man stated and started to walk away, disappearing into the forest.  
After a while, Ragnar looked at the captain, who was just approaching him:  
“Crew! We have a few days to the city, we better start marching at once.”

So they did, venturing North through forests and meadows on the shore of the Great Sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wardruna „Raido”


	8. Margo Birke 1264

MARGO

 

Birke 1264  
the riverbank of the Adalatte  
Kerack

The road from the city to the spot, where they were directed to took them three days. The wind was blowing from the See and the sun was already high up in the sky. The spring was beautiful with daffodils and narcissus blooming richly in bright white and yellow colours on their way.  
The inhabitants of Kerack were really desperate to get rid of the monster, living up the river to set such a ludicrous price. She and her crew had hunted monsters with Geralt of Rivia so many times, that they decided to try to get rid of the beast and became rich – fabulously rich – in the process. The description of the monster, given to them by the inhabitants of Kerack, sounded like a wyvern, so the job was expected to go smoothly enough.

They were just emerging from the forest to a clearing near a rocky riverbank as they saw it: wyvern and two Aen Seidhe trying hard to scare her off. She and her crew were all carrying silver swords, so... it was a piece of lembas. Both of the elves were untouched and Margo was just to smile at the victory as she heard them: three more wyverns, which emerged from above the forest after the first one was slain.  
“Fuck! Incoming! Crew! Stand your ground, hide the elves inside the circle!”  
They fought hard, but it wasn't looking good. Mannix and Leif were already lying on the ground and she wasn't sure, if they were still alive. One wyvern was down, but the remaining two just refused to die. When she was left alone with the bigger one, out of no where, the arrows began to fly and a Seidhe was at her side. Unfortunately, exactly then, she noticed the long tail with a venomous trident nearing him fast. She didn't think twice before running to him and pushing him to the ground, falling on the top of him in the process. She didn't even spare him a glance before she rolled and stood up with swords still in her hands.  
“What the fuck?!” – he shouted at her in a harsh voice.  
“The tail! It's venomous! I just saved your miserable life, you fucking idiot!” – she barked back. – “Do you have a silver?”  
“What?!”  
“A silver! Silver sword!”  
“No.”  
“So you are a distraction. Make her focus on you!”  
“Are you mad?!”  
“Do you want to live? If so, shut the fuck up and do what I say!”

She observed the wyvern focusing on the Seidhe for just a moment. In the meantime, she ran and jumped under her belly to cut it in half, emerging behind the beast. The wyvern fell to the ground, dead, but... the tail fell too – slightly scratching her hand. She shrieked and felt dizziness creeping to her mind. For a moment, she still hoped, that all is fine but her vision became blurred. Then, she fell on the sand and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruelle „Game of survival”


	9. Ronja Birke 1264

RONJA

 

Birke 1264  
the riverbank of the Adalatte  
Kerack

She observed the whole scene with horror. All beasts were lying on the ground, dead, but...  
“Margo!” – she screamed and ran to her captain.  
The moment she was at her side, she saw a wound on her hand. As the second in command, Ronja needed to react quickly:  
“Viggo, alcohol, now! How is the rest?”  
“All alive” – Viggo answered, running with the Mahakaman spirit and pouring it on Margo's hand.  
“It looks fine. There is nothing more we can do" – Ronja stated calmly and stood up, only to notice the Seidhe standing next to her. The same Seidhe, who was fighting side by side with her captain just a moment ago.

_He is... gorgeous..._

His raven-black hair was medium-cut, almost brushing his shoulders. It was falling in delicate waves, too. And the eyes! Dark green, looking like leaves of holy. He was taller than her and slender. His face was definitely the most handsome face she had ever seen. In short: he was a vision. A true vision. She stared, gaping as he raised his eyebrow and asked slowly with a little bit of irritation in his voice:  
“Who are you?”  
“Pirates” – she answered, quickly gathering herself.  
“Pirates? Since when do pirates hunt monsters?” – he asked with disbelieve in his voice.  
“The price for these wyverns' heads is ridiculously high. We wanted some money.”  
“I see...” – he replied and looked at Margo. – “She shouted to me, that the tail is venomous and she faded away quickly after being cut. Is there anything...?” – he trailed off.  
“No. The spirit shall help to neutralise the venom. If too much of it didn't get to her blood, she has a chance... We must wait and see” – she replied sternly.  
“You all saved Toru and Yaevinn...” – he stated slowly and thought for a moment before adding: – “We have a camp nearby. You may wait there for her to wake up.”  
“It may take days.”  
“Fine. We are not going anywhere” – he replied casually, still looking at Margo.  
“I'll send Niklas with the wyverns' heads to the town. We may split the price” – she stated calmly.  
“Do you think I'm stupid?” – now, he focused his attention on Ronja and she held her breath again, but spoke in an irritated voice:  
“No. But you need money, even more than we do. We are pirates, not Blue Stripes: we don't lead land rats to people, who offered their help.”

He looked at her pensively for a long time, then he looked back at Margo. In the end, he stated, but was still distrustful:  
“Fine, but Sitheach is coming with your man, just to make sure.”  
“Agreed. What's your name?”  
“Iorveth. And yours?”  
“Ronja.”  
“And hers?”  
“Margo. She is our captain.”  
“Ha!” – he huffed and added shaking his head: – “It explains a lot.”  
“Like what?”  
“She was shouting at me quite insultingly and demandingly. I am not used to allowing dh'oine doing something like that without punishment” – he replied dangerously.  
“I saw your fight. She saved your life. I guess, that you'll swallow her insults and orders. Moreover, she is more experienced than you are” – Ronja stated looking him deep in the eyes.  
“What do you mean?” – he asked confused.  
“How long are you leading a commando, hmm...? A year? Less?”  
“Why are you asking?”  
“She is leading a crew for six years. She saw more raids and fights than you saw winters, unless you are hundred-years-old. Are you?”  
“No... far from it, actually” – he answered still confused.  
“Now you understand?” – she replied with finality in her voice.

He didn't answer, but looked at the young woman lying lifeless in front of him with narrowed eyes and growing curiosity.


	10. Iorveth Birke 1264

IORVETH

 

Birke 1264  
the camp  
near the Adalatte  
Kerack

Three days after they came to the camp with pirates and their captain, he was standing alone in the tent, where Margo was still lying almost lifeless. He was shocked to see his commando accepting, even befriending, the crew within a few hours. By now, they were treated as if they have always been one of them - Scoia'tael. Even he admitted, that they were a good company: skilled in fight, disciplined and incredibly loyal. The first two days the whole crew spent mostly at their captain's side. But on the third day, in the early morning, they simply collapsed and went, finally, to sleep in their tents. Iorveth promised to keep watch over her and so he did.  
It was the first time, that he had an occasion to look closer at her. She had rather short, red and curly hair, now surrounding her face in a mess. And a beautiful face it was, not in Aen Seidhe way, but still even he admitted that. Even now, while she was asleep, there was a tension in her features - something predatory and demanding.

_I haven't seen such a fierce person in a long time. The way she fought, she ordered me to... It's maybe for the better, that she is not awake, while I'm here alone._

But just then, she moved her hand and he realised, that her eyelids are beginning to open. He stood in a distance and reached for water. As she opened her eyes, she was confused and barely whispered:  
“Water...” – he approached her and she drank. When she was finished, she looked up at him again and asked: – “Who are you?”  
“Don't you remember the wyvern?” – he asked slowly.  
“Obviously, I do. I don't remember you, unless... Ah... I pushed you to the ground, didn't I?”  
“Your men are saying, that you saved my life and you don't even remember...” – he said with a surprise in his voice.  
“I had better things to do than to look at you. The wyvern, remember?” – she answered in a bored voice.

He was utterly shocked now.

_She doesn't remember me? The handsome Seidhe? Really?  
_

“Where are we?” – she continued to inquire.  
“In my camp” – he answered with a little unsure voice.  
“Why?” – she asked quite demandingly.  
“You and your crew, you saved my men. I always pay my debts, even to a dh'oine.”  
“Haha” – she laughed bitterly. – “It is you, who brought race into this conversation, remember that. You: Aen Seidhe and racism. It is pathetic. It's true, what they say about you...”  
“And what do you know about it, dh'oine?!” – he barked.  
“Race-shaming now? You are a fool.”  
“How dare you?”  
“I saved your life, remember?”  
“And now you own me? Does it give you a right to insult me again?”  
“Again?! Ah... but battlefield is battlefield. Did you feel insulted, proud Seidhe?” – she mocked him viciously.  
“Only a fool wouldn't.”  
“Well...” – she trailed off, making yet another mocking expression.  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” – he exclaimed losing his patience.  
“Are you always so insecure? Or just with me?”  
“I would kill you, you filthy dh'oine, if it wasn't for your men” – he growled dangerously.  
“As to my men: how are they?” – she asked in a totally different, concerned voice.  
“Fine. Here.”  
“All?”  
“All.”  
“We'll leave as soon as possible. Even the day after tomorrow” – she stated calmly.  
“Fine” – he barked, turned around and headed to the entrance of the tent.

He left the tent agitated and he noticed, that Toruviel and Yeavinn were already walking in his direction. It was her, who asked:  
“What happened? You have murder written all over your face...”  
“She woke up” – he growled.  
“And?" – she asked curiously.  
“I can't stand her” – he answered coldly.  
“Ah...” – Toru nodded slowly. – “I'll talk to her” – she added and disappeared in the tent.  
“Iorveth?” – Yeavinn asked slowly.  
“Yes?”  
“Are you still there?”  
“She is the most irritating person I had the displeasure of meeting. So presumptuous...” – he answered in an irritated voice.  
“Oh... I see.”  
“What?”  
“Nothing” – Yeavinn answered cryptically with a strange grin and followed Toruviel.  
He was still so angry, that the only thing he could do was going to hunt. So he did.

The next day, in the morning, the woman approached him slowly but firmly and stood in front of him with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, saying:  
“I've met your commando. They seem to to be quite fond of my crew.”  
“They are” – he stated as calmly as he could, but her presence itself made him angry, already.  
“Toru suggested, that you may need our help.”  
“Did she?!” – he more stated than asked, with a raised eyebrow but she didn't react, so he continued: – “Your men are well trained and know a lot about fighting.”  
“I heard, that the Knights are quite wealthy. We will be more than happy to steal from their dead corpses” – she said, looking at something behind him with a bored expression.  
“I guess...”  
“But we cannot have two commanders” – she paused and looked him in the eyes.

Then he almost held his breath. Those eyes were flint-grey, cold and commanding. Endless and bottomless, like the abyss.

_Incredible... I could lose myself in those eyes. Wait! I am losing my mind, if I thought that about this little monster in front of me._

But she continued in a cold voice, totally unaware of his thoughts:  
“We, me and my men, are at your disposal, if you wish.”  
As he heard her, he was observing her for a long time, dumbfounded.

_Dh'oine fighting for me? Ludicrous... But I saw them fight..._

“All right, stay” - he replied in the end.  
She didn't say anything else, just turned around and went back to her tent. He watched her going away for a long while.

 _Complicated little thing, isn't she? She just offered an olive branch and..._  
_“We, me and my men, are at your disposal, if you wish”._  
_Why did she put it like that? If I wish... There are so many things, which I want, but I would never have. Just... add one more to the list..._

The pirates stayed with them, indeed. They were sparring with his men, scouting, hunting. They adjusted to Scoia'tael routine fast and fitted perfectly. Even more, they made some things simpler... Many things but... her presence. From the first day, he and Margo either didn't speak to each other or fought. Hard.


	11. Toruviel Birke 1264

TORUVIEL

 

Birke 1264  
the camp  
near the Adalatte  
Kerack

Days were already longer and many flowers began to bloom on their clearing. Spring was upon them, as was Gealach lán, celebrations of the full moon. Since she came back with Yeavinn to the commando, she limited her time alone with Iorveth to almost none, but... well, on the full moon everybody made love to everybody. It was truly the night of the free love and it looked like it would be warm and cloudless, as well. Making love under the stars and the moon was preferable for any Seidhe.  
It was noon when she overheard yet another fight:  
“I've already asked you twice to put them back after you use them!” – it was Margo's irritated voice coming from behind the tent.  
“I had more important things to do!” – Iorveth shouted back.  
“Like what?! I took care of scouting and hunting for the last week. What was so important to do, that you couldn't keep the order in the camp?! How can you function like this?”  
“It is my camp, woman and I will function in it as I please!” – Iorveth exclaimed with finality in his voice.  
“Only a weak leader must remind everyone of his position” – she stated coldly and turned around to walk away.  
“What?!” – he called after her, but she already disappeared from the sight.

Toruviel approached him slowly and asked playfully:  
“Do you want to spar?”  
“Yes” – Iorveth answered, but was still angry.  
They fought for a while, but it was pointless. He was distracted, so she sighed and asked:  
“Have you ever sparred with her?”  
“Whom?”  
“Margo.”  
“No.”  
“Maybe you should?”  
“I don't think so...”  
“Afraid?” – a new, cold and mocking voice came from behind Toruviel.

_Margo. She never speaks like that to anyone else. She has a strong and demanding voice, that is true, but it's warm and nice, always. Always, but when she speaks to him._

“Are you challenging me? “  
“Obviously” – she stated and drew her swords. – “Wager?”  
“My bow and your silver sword. Three rounds?” – he asked.

Everybody, who was listening to their conversation, gasped. They were to fight almost to death. Which in their case was... well, simply dangerous.  
“Fine and fine” – she accepted with a careless smile and approached him.

For a time, they were encircling each other: hunters observing the prey. But they clashed, soon. The first round was for him, the second for her and the third...  
“Draw” – Toruviel stated strongly, looking at her bleeding neck and his shirt cut open, revealing a long wound on his chest. – “This is enough. Both of you, go to your tents and tend to these wounds. Your little games are foolish and too dangerous, idiots.”  
They were both kneeling on the ground, looking at Toruviel and at each other. She saw Margo's eyes drawn for a long time to his tattoo, which was now almost fully revealed. But, both stood up and followed her order.

_They will kill each other one day. But why? What is going on? Unless..._

In the early evening, they were all sitting together by the bonfire. She was observing both Margo and Iorveth curiously. They were glancing at each other from time to time, but never for too long and their stares had never met. They spoke politely to each other, but only when they needed to. Suddenly, Margo asked her, after she finished eating:  
“Vanilla?”  
“Yes. You have a good sense of smell and taste, sor'ca” – Toruviel answered.  
“I think it's high time we disappear” – she first glanced pensively at Toruviel, but then she looked at her men, who got up and went to their tents without a word.

_She knew and she warned them. On this night, they must stay away or the hell will break lose..._

But, as Margo was leaving, it was Iorveth, who stood up and called, approaching her:  
“Margo! Your coat...”  
She glimpsed surprised at him, but went in his direction, looking intently at him. The moment their hands accidentally met, while she was taking her piece of clothing from him, Toruviel saw it: they both tensed and held their breath. Then, Margo quickly turned around and disappeared without a word.  
Iorveth didn't come back to them, but went to his tent, as well.

An hour later, she was walking to Iorveth's tent in nothing, but her coat. She spread the material and saw him sitting on the blankets and looking blankly ahead.  
“Iorveth?” – she started.  
“Hmm...?” – he looked at her, but something was still distracting him.  
She approached him and sat on his lap opening her coat. He sneaked his hands around her waist looking at her face with a small smile, but he said:  
“Toru... Go back, I...” – he trailed off.  
“I know and it's not why I came here... I can see, fraere. You are not in the mood, but you always are, Iorveth. It's... her, isn't it?”  
“What? Whom?” – he faked surprise rather poorly.  
“Margo” – she answered matter-of-factly.  
“Don't be ridiculous. She... I... I'm just tired of her presence here.”  
“But you like her crew...”  
“Sure, they are fine, but her...”  
“Iorveth?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Nothing” – she stated and rested her head on his shoulder.  
They were sitting like that for a time, but she moved from him, kissed him chastely on the cheek, smiled and left.


	12. Leif Blathe 1264

LEIF

 

Blathe 1264  
the camp  
near the Adalatte  
Kerack

They were just playing Gwent, in the light of the setting sun, as Toruviel came to Margo but the latter spoke slowly:  
“They should have been back by now.”  
“Yes. A few hours ago.”  
“Maybe it's a good plan to send another team before jumping to any conclusion?”  
“Yeah... But Iorveth never...”  
“Toru, we need to know for sure before we will worry. Leif? Would you go with Saraid?”  
“Sure” – both answered and went to prepare for scouting.

They found both, Iorveth and Sitheach, few hours later - shackled in the ruins of the house, occupied currently by the bandits. They ran back to the camp with the news. Toruviel didn't hesitate for long: she asked Margo to take men and move, while she remained with Yeavinn to guard the camp. When Margo heard the news, her face tensed and worry crept to her eyes, while she clenched her teeth, but she got up quickly and ordered to move at once.

Now, they were hidden in the forest, waiting for the command to shoot. The odds were not in their favour... far from it, but Margo still ordered in a determined voice, with cross-bow in her hands:  
“Spar'le!”

They made their way through the bandits' camp. Margo quickly disappeared in the ruins, but he didn't have time to observe her for too long. The fight was hectic. They survived, but... many were badly injured. As the bandits outside were already lying dead, Margo emerged followed shortly by shouting Iorveth:  
“What have you been thinking? There were four of them! Do you wish for death or rape, cause I'm not sure?!”  
“How dare you?! I knew, that Sitheach was already free and would help me” – she shouted back.  
“But why did you go that way in the first place?!” – he shouted again.  
“A trap-door, fraere” – it was Sitheach, who answered him. – “I saw it when they were all already dead.”  
“If they left, they would have an interesting story to tell, wouldn't they? Pirates saving the Scoia'tael...” – Margo said to Iorveth in a steady, but angry voice, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes.  
“But you risked...” – he continued in an angry voice.  
She paid him no mind already, looking at her crew and counting. As always after a fight. Satisfied with the result, she ordered:  
“Take everything we may use” – and started to walk in the direction of the camp.

Iorveth was dumbfounded at first, but gathered himself to help men in the search. Once they were back at the camp, Leif noticed Margo leaving Toruviel and heading to her tent, but Iorveth approached her in a quick pace and asked in even angrier voice than before:  
“What are you doing?!”  
“I'm going to take a bath” – she answered coldly. – “I don't plan to listen to your screams and silly complaints. And I stink of blood.”  
She said that, went to her tent, took new clothes and emerged heading in the direction of the river. They all saw him following her, but she paid him no mind and walked ahead.


	13. Iorveth Blathe 1264

IORVETH

 

Blathe 1264  
dusk  
the riverbank of the Adalatte  
Kerack

“Do you think, that you can just walk away like that?! I am still talking to you!”  
He was screaming and following her to the riverbank. When they got to the beach, he shouted again:  
“You can't just...!”  
But he stopped in his tracks. He was standing maybe eight meters from her, when she started to undress not looking in his direction. Her movements were sure and casual, just as if he - a stranger - wasn't standing just behind her. She ordered her clothing and went to the river.  
When she started to splash water around her and on her body to get used to its chilly temperature, his thoughts wandered in a highly dangerous direction.

_Her tights with perfect cleavage between them, then the ripe arse and hips, later the waist, her nicely-shaped breasts and long, impossibly long neck, at the end: the red head – she disappeared under water. Gods... why did it take her so long? Every inch of this exquisite alabaster skin took its time to finally hide from my eyes. Even the scars: on her left tight and back, they only added to the pure perfection of the view in front of me. I want her. I want to fuck her right here and right now. But this is a terrible idea... Still, is she just swimming?... Oh, gods! Don't spread those legs. I've been dying for her almost every single night since I had spoken to her for the first time... And after this... I will never sleep again._

He hid his face behind his hands to gather himself, but he couldn't. Some masochistic need made him look at her again. She, on the other hand, paid him no mind swimming leisurely in the water. After maybe ten minutes of this torture, he noticed, that she is coming back to the riverbank. He observed the same process in reverse. Her hair was soaking wet and the water was dripping from her breasts, stomach and womanhood. He knew, that he shouldn't but still... he observed her not averting his gaze.  
But she casually went to her shirt and bent for it.

_I can't breathe. Why would you do something like that in front of a stranger?! Have you no shame at all?!_

Then, she stood straight, looking at the water and put the shirt on, buttoning it to cover most of her upper body. The shirt ended just below her bottom. After she was done, she turned around and looked at him with rage. She took a few steps to stand maybe one meter from him and asked in a cold, demanding voice:  
“What do you want? Do you want us to leave? You are acting like a child and I am tired of it. What it is that you want from me?”  
“You” – he stated in a husky voice looking her in the eyes.  
“What?!” – she asked with confusion.  
“I want you” – he stated, almost whispered, but in a voice so lustful, that her face changed from confused to pensive and then curious, fascinated: as if he was a riddle she was trying to solve.  
And she did, in a matter of seconds, approaching him and standing within the reach of his hands. Then, she raised her left hand and touched his cheek. He still didn't move, but heard his own elevated blood pressure in his ears. He felt, that he desired her so painfully, that it almost made him shiver. But her gesture caught him off guard and he hesitated for a long while before he reacted. Too long for her. She stood on her toes and what she did next, he would never forget. She kissed his jaw, his cheek then rested her lips near his ear, so he could hear her heavy breathing. While on his chest he could almost feel her elevated heartbeat.  
Now, he couldn't stop himself, even if he wanted to. His left hand moved to grab her bottom and the right to trail the line of her spine hidden under the shirt. She leaned to his touch and moaned softly, letting her head fall back and leaving her lips slightly open.

_I can't. I shouldn't. But... I already have her in my arms, melting under my touch. Fuck..._

Then, she looked him in the eyes. Her usually flint-grey eyes were now almost black with her pupils dilated and on her cheeks crept a crimson red blush. Absent-mindedly, he moved his hand from her bottom to her entrance and found her already wet. Still, without a single thought in his mind, he moved his hand to her clitoris and back again. At that, lower muscles in her body started to clench gently and her eye-lids fell closed at the sensation.

_Oh, luned. Make that sound again and I won't stop myself._

Obviously, she moaned loudly, again. He shut his eyes for a second, but grabbed roughly her right tight lifting her leg to his waist and pulled her closer to his body, while his right hand moved to her womanhood to continue finger-fucking her. They were still standing but soon she clung to him, barely holding herself with trembling arms dug into his shoulders. Just a moment later: she panted to his ear, her inner muscles clenched violently around his fingers and she moaned with satisfaction. They rested like that for a moment. Her next movement... he added to the list of things, he would never forget: she removed his hand from herself, brought it to her mouth and licked it - looking him straight in the eyes.  
He didn't think, didn't move, didn't even breathe. He was dumbfounded and so utterly lost in his own desire, that he didn't expect to have it in himself to do, what he did next. She already removed his weapons, coat and started to work on his belt. But he pushed her gently from himself saying:  
“It's a terrible idea” – with a husky and shaking voice.  
“What?!” – she asked slightly surprised.  
“We shouldn't.”  
“And who is to tell us what we should and shouldn't do?”  
“I am telling you: we can't.”  
“Was it an order?” – she mocked him, but he didn't reply so she continued: – “Shouldn't... now can't... you are losing your arguments... And from what I felt and I still see quite plainly: you can and you want. As to telling me anything with this quasi-commanding, but shaking with desire voice: you are no commander of mine, commander” – she said with a teasing smile. – “I am a pirate. I always get what I want.”  
“No.”  
“No? OK, as you wish” – she agreed, but did exactly the opposite: she neared to him again and took off his shirt.  
Her fingertips were tracing his back and sides when she started to suck on his earlobe. It was his time to moan, deeply and loudly. Then, the third thing happened, which he added to his list of things she did to catch him totally off guard. He lost control the moment he felt her breath on his neck and heard her whisper:  
“Take me.”

_Wh..? H...? I..._

At first, his thoughts transformed into an incoherent mass and then, he stopped thinking at all. He lifted her up by her bottom and knelt with her in his arms. She laid on her back and watched him with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow, as he was removing his longsword, his belt, and was pulling down his pants. He aligned with her, with the tip of his length teasing her entrance, but didn't push at once. He caught both of her hands and held them above her head with his left hand, while the other encircled her tight and pulled her left leg up almost to the level of her stomach. Then, he looked at her. She was smiling at him, teasingly and her eyes were dazed with desire daring him to push. So he did. She was tight... very tight... so tight in a matter of fact, that he was seriously surprised, that he didn't cum right then, as aroused as he was. But, thankfully, he didn't. He noticed her head tilting backwards and her heavy breathing, so he waited patiently. He started to kiss her neck, her ear, her cheek, but then, she moved her hips up to him. Soon, they were moving together in a steady rhythm.  
Her face captivated him and it became the only coherent thought he had in his mind. The moment he started to accelerate his movements, she moved her hips up and the heel of her free leg down on his back to block him. He looked at her confused, but saw her almost vicious smirk. This commanding move was so utterly wicked, that he obliged. They went back to their rhythm and he realised her hands to put his own hand to a better use – on her clitoris. The position was far from comfortable, but... It was more than worth it. A few moments later, she dug her fingertips deep into his shoulders and came looking him in the eyes. He followed immediately, but still, moved gently throughout all of her orgasm. Or orgasms?

_Yeah... Complicated._

They rested in this position for a while, both panting heavily. He gathered himself first and knelt in front of her, looking in disbelieve at her gorgeously spread body. But he averted his gaze quickly.

_I promised myself I wouldn't fuck her and I did exactly the opposite. Great. And I want more. Idiot._

She rolled herself to her side to the half-lying position and rested her cheek on a bent arm. In this position, she was observing his internal struggle with a cold curiosity. When he looked at her again, her eyebrow was raised and she had a mocking smile on her face, as she asked:  
“Are you second-guessing yourself now? How can you lead your men if you overthink everything all the time?”  
“Are you undermining my position now?”  
“How could I? I'm not your subordinate nor you are mine. I'm just observing your internal struggle and I feel for you. But you know... I'm starting to think, that maybe you still see me as a filthy, disgusting dh'oine? Is that it?”  
“Margo... Stop!” – he interrupted before she said more – “Obviously not. It's not that.”  
“So what?”  
“You are a dangerous woman Margo and I cannot read you nor do I understand you.”  
“Ah... control-freak lost control?”  
“What? You are a hypocrite. You are exactly the same.”  
“Yes, that's why I never ever lose control.”  
“And this was what?”  
“Decision: to make love with you. I was abstinent for too long and, truly, I was more than happy, when you said what you did before the finger-fucking” – she chuckled. – “I don't fuck my subordinates nor my second in command” – she looked pointedly at him – “therefore, I was really, really horny so...”  
“Did you lead me here on purpose?”  
“Well... do you think, that I would have undressed as I did, if I hadn't had at least considered this outcome?” – she laughed heartedly. – “You know nothing, Iorveth.”

He was watching her, thinking hard.

_And did you plan this?_

In a blink of an eye, he moved towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jay Gordon „Slept So Long”


	14. Margo Blathe 1264

MARGO

 

Blathe 1264  
late evening  
the riverbank of the Adalatte  
Kerack

She yelped in surprise when he roughly rolled her on her stomach and she felt his strong left hand between her shoulder blades. His right hand went to her womanhood and started to move, drawing lines and circles on her clitoris. Soon, only soft moans were emerging from her lips and her thoughts became blurred. When she was almost on the edge, he lifted her lower body with the hand, which had already been on her womanhood and put his left hand on the ground next to her, to steady his own body. Her legs were joined tightly when he entered her.  
This sensation caused her to gasp and moan simultaneously. He waited again, but the moment she pushed gently towards him, he took control and was moving both hers and his bodies. This time, he was changing the rhythm. When she was almost on her peak, he slowed down and removed his hand from her womanhood to hold her by the stomach. She was panting, balancing on the edge of ecstasy. After a while, she realised, that this was exactly what he wanted. This wasn't so much about his own pleasure as about her losing control. Teaching a lesson. But she was too old for this game, so she clenched all of the muscles in her lower body and used all of the power, which her body could muster in this position to accelerate their rhythm. When he realised, what she was doing, it has already been too late... she felt him reaching his peak inside her and he groaned. Then, she came as well, twitching violently under him. They both collapsed on the ground gently. Soon, he slid out of her and rolled her body around to see a victorious grin on her face.  
“You are a spoilsport” – he stated looking down at her.  
“You are trying to get ahead of yourself” – she replied.  
“This was...”  
“Brilliant? Thank you” – at her response he laughed warmly, genuinely.

Just then, she saw a new emotion on his face: it was warm and soft. She won and he surrendered much more than this fight. He surrendered himself to her: through these impossibly green eyes she saw his heart and soul. She saw everything, that she so desperately didn't want to see.

_No... this was just a game. Don't..._

The moment he leaned to her to kiss her, she said:  
“I need another bath” – with a chuckle and moved from him to go back to the water. – “Are you coming?” – she called, not looking at him right now.  
He joined her, soon, to catch her in the water. There he held her firmly, making her look at him and so she did with a cold expression. His face displayed confusion, but soon, it was replaced by worry... uncertainty. Then, she kissed him: deeply and passionately. When they separated, they both smirked at each other. But... there was something in his eyes. Something, that even she couldn't define.

They dressed up and walked in silence to the camp, not looking at each other. This awkwardness was the last thing they needed, so she started:  
“There are still two more locations, yes?”  
“Yes... We need to start scouting tomorrow. There is a lot to do...”

They came to the camp deep in their conversation. She thought, that no one would see anything different about them, but she was wrong. When they approached their men, it was Quinlan who fished a small sack out of his pocket and threw it in Ronja's direction.  
“You bet?” – Margo asked in disbelieve.  
“Yeah... that either you kill each other or... well... you are both alive, so... we won.”  
Margo sat next to her and started to laugh with the rest, but Iorveth headed to his tent silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fleurie, Tommee Profitt „Midnight Oil”


	15. Yeavinn Blathe 1264

YEAVINN

 

Blathe 1264  
the next morning  
the camp  
near the Adalatte river  
Kerack

He was observing Margo, as she was tending to her swords at dawn, sitting by the fire. He knew, that she didn't sleep in the tent with Iorveth. But... he got to know her well enough to see, that she was thinking hard about something. He came to her with food for both of them and sat next to her.  
“Yeavinn” – she greeted him with a relief. – “Thank you, fraere.”  
“You are very welcome. It's good to have someone here who wakes up like me: with the sun” – he replied merrily.  
“But I'm not as cheerful as you are in the mornings, that's for sure” – she looked at him with a warm smile.  
He was looking at her intently for a long while until she asked:  
“Yeavinn? Are you all right?”  
“You are a desirable woman, Margo” – he stated pensively.

_It is true... Her youth... Something so tempting for any of us, even if we are just a little bit older. But it's more: her fertility – the promise her body, made as if for this and only this purpose, is displaying before our eyes... Such a strange thing, but it's there. Still... she is not Toru._

“Hmm... I guess, that you are not the first one to notice” – she said laughing, as if they were joking but when he didn't react she continued with a little more tensed voice: – “Yeavinn...”  
“No, I mean... Don't take me wrong, I meant what I said. But you're not her” – he smiled gently.  
“I understand. She is all yours, now.”  
“Well, since you've come, yes. But...”  
“Hmm...?”  
“Maybe you can help me to make it a more permanent solution?” – he asked grinning.  
“How?” – she asked with a mischief in her eyes.  
He felt, that they were observed, so he leaned and whispered to her ear. They conversed quietly for a while and at the end, they both laughed playfully. At that, Iorveth came to them with a tensed expression, but pretended, that nothing had happened.

When Margo left, he looked at Iorveth, who was already looking at him with an angry face. He just smiled gently and asked:  
“Do you remember, what you promised me more than a year ago, Iorveth?” – he observed the younger Seidhe first tensing and then, giving up.  
“Yes. I remember.”  
“So you wouldn't mind, would you, fraere?” – he asked almost innocently.  
“If she agrees...”  
“She has already expressed her interest” – Yaevinn stated with a smirk.  
“Oh... Well, I'm going to hunt. I'll be back in the afternoon. Keep the eye for the camp before Toru wakes up, would you?”  
Iorveth uttered all of this and headed into the forest, not waiting for the reply. He was raging and confused.

_But he deserved that._

In the late afternoon, he was standing between the trees, observing the camp. Iorveth walked in with two rabbits and a pheasant in his hands. He headed to the fire, where Viggo and Niklas were sitting. The moment he approached them, he asked:  
“Have you seen Margo?”  
“In Yeavinn's tent. But if I were you, I wouldn't go there” – Niklas replied with a smirk.  
Just then, even from his place, he heard - but barely - a sweet and soft female moan. The voice was unmistakable. It was Margo.  
On Iorveth's face hundred emotions were visible. But mostly: rage and helplessness. He threw his game to the ground, sat and tried to focus on preparing it for cooking, but instead, he cut himself in the hand:  
“Fuck!” – he exclaimed and went to the tent for a bandage.  
After the hand was secured, he started to pace, glancing dangerously in the direction of Yeavinn's tent.  
Then, another moan came. Iorveth left and disappeared into his own tent to emerge back after a few minutes. He just couldn't find a place for himself. It lasted for another half an hour. Then, as Iorveth was standing right in front of the tent, Margo emerged with a satisfied smile, looked at him with a raised eyebrow and passed him to sit with her men. Iorveth was watching her probably biting his own tongue, but said nothing. Later, Toruviel emerged and tilted her head smiling, but went to sit next to Margo. Iorveth looked back at the tent.  
Yaevinn approached slowly from his place between the trees and stated before Iorveth even noticed him:  
“Now, fraere” – at the sound of his voice the younger Seidhe turned around and his face displayed utter confusion. But Yeavinn continued slowly: – “Now, you know how it feels like. But this” – he motioned to his tent – “it was only in your head. Next time, it won't be. Next time, I will seduce your woman, if only to watch you pace like a fool again.”  
“I get it. You played me, but...” – Iorveth sighed and looked him straight in the eyes – “you were right to. How did you persuade her to do it?”  
“By breakfast. She didn't need much persuasion, though. She has mischief in her veins.”  
They both laughed heartedly and Iorveth started to walk in Margo's direction when Yeavinn called:  
“Iorveth!”  
“Hmm?”  
“Just... think twice, before... She is already a sor'ca to us. But... don't destroy the balance. You know? Never mind. Forget I started” – he added looking at the confusion on Iorveth's face.

They both headed to the fire to properly prepare the meal. Working in silence, he observed Iorveth for a while. The younger Seidhe visibly relaxed and his attention was drawn to the task at hand, but not completely. He was glancing at Margo from time to time, but the woman paid him no mind. Yeavinn admitted internally, that their dynamics was quite unusual, but... somehow... it looked as if it may actually work.


	16. Iorveth Blathe 1264

IORVETH

 

Blathe 1264  
the camp  
near the Adalatte river  
Kerack

For three days after the whole Yeavinn situation, Margo was avoiding him. Maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn't. Still, they barely spoke. But tomorrow would be Gealach lán. Her crew planned to disappear this time to attend a brothel in Gors Velen, but she... he didn't know and it irritated him. Tonight, they all sat at the bonfire drinking wine and conversing. He heard My'aena asking Ragnar:  
“Do you sing?”  
“I'm a pirate, obviously, I do.”  
“Will you?”  
“Toru, may I borrow your lute?”  
“Sure.”  
He took the instrument and started, but all the crew joined him at once:

 _“The King and his men_  
_stole the Queen from her bed_  
_and bound her in her bones_  
_the seas be ours and by the powers_  
_where we will we'll roam.”_

The song was dark, even he felt some strange, inexplicably dark feeling hearing them sing. But he gathered himself quickly and sat next to Margo, who upon seeing him, smiled gently and asked:  
“What do you think?”  
“Dark and twisted. Exactly as I expected” – they both chuckled. – “Do you plan to stay tomorrow?”  
“I do. Yes” – she answered not looking at him.  
“Do you plan to come to my tent tonight?” – he asked casually.  
“I have a watch.”  
“Obviously.”  
They were sitting in silence. But when Toru played something more adequate for dancing, he extended his hand to Margo and she took it, smiling. This woman... she could dance: she was whirling, moving sensually and wildly. When he noticed her wide smile and eyes glittering in the light of the fire, he just kissed her, forgetting about everything around them.

The next evening, he was determined to find her and drag her into the forest, but as he emerged from his tent - she was already there, waiting for him with a blanket and a bottle of wine.

_Well... one step ahead, aren't you?_

They went to a different spot on the riverbank, but here, there was no beach - just rocks emerging from the water and then meadow. The moon was shining on one spot at the meadow, they just arrived to. He led her there -  exactly to the moonlight. When he turned her around to kiss her, the blanket and the bottle fell to the ground, completely forgotten. This time, they were undressing each other slowly and sensually. They took their time, brushing their skin against each other. When she fully undressed him, she pushed him gently to the ground and followed him shortly. Her hands and lips were exploring him gently, as she was tracing every inch of his skin. She made him moan when her tongue licked his length and she bit him on his tights and then sides of his belly. He twitched under her passionate, but harsh caress.  
He knew well, what she would do the moment she straddled him, but still – he smiled. She lowered her body on him and took him inside her in a swift movement. For a moment he was wondering, if she did it too soon, but he stopped immediately, feeling how easily she covered him and she waited just for a second before she leaned back and put her hands on both sides of his legs. Then, she started to move up and down, not even looking at him. She was changing her pace and angle from time to time, but still, didn't spare him a single glance. After a while, he moved his legs up to her back and his hand to her clitoris. This granted him her attention. She looked down with a smile and moved her hands to grab his sides, clenching him almost painfully. He didn't even try to move up to kiss her, knowing, that she wouldn't allow it. She came with a loud moan and a spasm, which caused her fingernails to dug deep into his skin. He hissed, but she paid him no mind, reaching her peak again. Then, she positioned herself in the right angle and paused, just before accelerating her movements, allowing him to come as well, very soon. Only in the corner of his mind, he noticed her smile as she was observing him intently. They rested like that for a while, just looking at each other in silence.  
As her panting became slower, he moved gently his right hand, which never left her clitoris. He felt her inner muscles responding and she smiled at him again, biting her lower lip. She was moving lazily on him, up and down again. When she playfully tilted her head, he grabbed her bottom and hip with both hands and rolled them around. She yelped softly and chuckled looking up at him. He straightened up to kneel, not sliding out of her and put both of her ankles on his left shoulder, resuming their movements. She was tightening, soon and the moment his finger touched her clitoris they both moaned and came together smiling at each other. As his thoughts became coherent, he looked down: her pale, sweaty skin was shining in the moonlight and her breasts were moving up and down quickly. He was enchanted by this view for a while before he separated her legs and put them down to both sides of his body, only to lean in and kiss her parted lips.  
His hands were roaming through her body and she was responding to his every touch, as if her senses were focused only on him. Her eyes were closed and when he stopped kissing her, she left her lips slightly parted, breathing heavily. She was lying relaxed, allowing him to explore her body, to tease her and devour her as he desired. They stayed like that for a time and when he was sucking her nipple and squeezed her sides just above her pelvis, she arched to him and moaned, opening her eyes to see his pleased smirk.

As they came back to the camp, he looked at her and extended his hand.  
“Come to sleep in my tent” – he stated casually.  
“I'll be fine in my own” – she replied, kissed him chastely and disappeared.  
He stood there for a long time watching her tent.

_What is wrong with you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans Zimmer "Hoist the Colours"


	17. Margo Feainn 1264

MARGO

 

Feainn 1264  
near Brokilon  
Verden

Two months of scouting and dynamic attacks paid off: Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose were too afraid to make camps or try to attack outside the main outpost. The Scoia'tael planned the attack on the outpost, located South from Kerack, for some time by now. They didn't have numbers, but... if everything was to go smoothly, it wouldn't be a problem.  
They approached at night. Iorveth and archers were ready to shot burning arrows and Margo with pirates was to cut the escape. But first, they needed a rouse to lure the Knights outside the walls of the tower. Thankfully, a bigger part of the building was wooden, so... fire would do the job. The arrows flew and the building started to burn. Soon, the knights started to run in turmoil, as the Scoia'tael shot the arrows to leave only one route of escape – into a trap. They ran straight to pirates and the fight started. It was hectic. After a while, Scoia'tael joined the close-combat and it gave them the advantage. As the battle was nearing its end, Margo saw Yngve fighting with three knights, so she ran to him immediately, but she was too late. One of the knights fell, but before he died, he pushed his sword into Yngve's stomach. He was one of two casualties on their side that night, the second was Quinlan.  
After the fight, they took what they could from the fallen knights and gathered the bodies into a pile, which was set on fire. For their fallen comrades, they prepared quickly a pyre, as the fire from the outpost was already visible, it was not too risky to burn them, as it should be done. They all gathered and stood in silence for a while. Margo moved to stand by Yngve's body and said the same line she always repeated when they lost a comrade:  
“It was a good day to die, my friends. Go to Valhalla now to wait for us at Odin's table. You proved to be worthy of the honour hundred of times. In fight, in life and in death you always chose courage, there is nothing you should be ashamed of. Now, feast with your ancestors and wait for us, cause we will join you, soon” – she paused, looked at Iorveth and said: – “I don't know...”  
“We said our words in our hearts, however, your speech... he would like it, as well” – he replied. – “It was him, who said to me for the first time: Ayd f'haeil moen Hirjeth taenverde.”

They smiled at each other with sadness visible in their eyes. Somehow, in some strange way she felt, that he feels exactly the same.

_It's true: it is better to die with a sword in your hand but... they were our men and they died following our orders. We failed them and if we had a chance, we would gladly take their place. Without hesitation._

The next evening, they were lying entangled in his tent, on his bed. The warmth of his body was radiating pleasantly and she was listening to his relaxed breath. Then, she moved and started to get up. He caught her arm and pulled her back to him. When she looked him in the eyes, he said in a calm and warm voice:  
“Stay. It was a hard day... How long it is like that? A month? You can sleep here, I don't snore, Margo” – he chucked, but her expression was blank.  
“I like sleeping on my own, Iorveth” – she replied.

_Oh, I see, that you are thinking hard. Just stop._

He let go of her hand, but was still watching her intently. When he spoke, his voice was concerned:  
“Why are you so afraid?”

_Fuck you..._

“What?! You don't plan to kick me in my sleep, do you?” – she joked, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.  
Still, afraid even more of this conversation, she laid next to him and allowed him to hug her gently.  
He was deeply asleep, soon. Then, she moved from him and tried to sleep as well but she couldn't. The feeling was haunting her. The feeling, that she will lose, again and that she can fall too deeply for the Seidhe now sleeping serenely at her side. She was watching him sleep for a long time before she gathered herself and left his tent.

In the morning, she was avoiding him. She knew, that he would try to talk about her departure but it was the last thing she wanted to do. Around noon, he approached her casually and smiled, saying:  
“Margo, I shouldn't have asked you to stay last night.”  
She was shocked and as she tried to gather herself to give him a coherent reply, but he just kissed her, smiled again and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laura Welsh „Break the fall”


	18. Iorveth Feainn 1264

IORVETH

 

Feainn 1264  
the camp  
near the Adalatte river  
Kerack

He always loved summer. But when you wake up already sweaty... it's not the best morning. Or maybe? Margo was nestled next to him, still sleeping serenely. Her instincts in the night were better than his: she was completely uncovered and naked. His left hand was wrapped around her and he didn't dare to move it. Since the night, when she had ran away from him, she was staying to sleep in his tent more and more often. For the last two weeks - every night. She was even coming to him just to lay together and go to sleep, no sex was required any longer. This was a progress. He didn't even want to think, why she was so afraid, so distant, so... oppose to commitment? He learned to take it for granted and enjoy every evening, night and morning when she took her baby steps towards him.  
For him, her presence became like air. She was the most natural part of his life right now. They both learned how to keep this balance and to move forward at the same time. He wanted it. Wanted her to stay, but knew deep in his heart, that probably one day she would say her goodbye. For a time? For good? He decided to leave these questions unanswered for now and resumed watching her sleep and listening to her breathing. She moved soon and turned around to face him, waking up. When her eyelids opened, she kissed him chastely, getting up:  
“Come! We promised to hunt in the morning and it's already late... Why didn't you wake me up?”  
“I was busy.”  
“With what?”  
“Watching you.”  
“You are an idiot” – she stated shaking her head, but grinned at him chuckling.

 

A week later, to his surprise, he woke up alone with a small stone in his bed.

_What the fuck?!_

He dressed and emerged outside. The cold wind from the North was howling and the material of his tent was slating violently. When he looked around, he saw Toruviel approaching him with a tensed expression. He knew even before she said:  
“They're gone.”

_She left me without so much as: Va fail. Obviously._


	19. Geralt Velen 1265

Moderato

 

GERALT

 

Velen 1265  
Harviken  
Faroe

He was standing in the jarl Holger's house, watching young Halbjorn, who was occupied with welcoming the guests, standing at his father's side. It was a year and a half since his brother died and the boy was still adjusting to his new role. When Carnelian was here, it was easier. Geralt looked absent-mindedly at the door remembering as he found her to share the grievous news.

 

 _Feainn 1264_  
_the Scoia'tael camp_  
_near the Adalatte river_  
_Kerack_

 _He saw the camp from afar and approached the nearest guard to his right quietly. He was surprised, but not too much, as he recognised Ronja, a member of the crew, whose captain he was looking for right now. So, not hesitating for long, he approached her with his hands high in the act of surrender. She recognised him almost immediately and exclaimed enthusiastically:_  
_“Geralt!”_  
_“Ronja! We will talk later, but right now, I'm looking for Carrie. It's urgent” – he stated in a quiet voice._  
_She was observing him intently for a while, before she stated:_  
_“She is not alone. The dark-green tent, second to the right from the willow.”_  
_“OK. I will wake her up.”_  
_He sneaked to the pointed tent and realised, that indeed: Carrie wasn't alone. To the contrary: she was sleeping in an embrace of a Seidhe somehow older than her, but still very young. They were both naked and barely covered. He was pondering for a while, but he knew her well enough to first attempt to wake only her. He took a small stone and threw it in her cheek. She woke up and looked up at him. He saw shock and confusion on her face before he left to wait with Ronja, giving Carrie space to dress up._  
_She followed shortly and hugged him closely:_  
_“Geralt! Good to see you, but... to what do I owe this nightly visit?”_  
_“Carrie... I'm bringing grievous news... it's your brother, Trygve.”_  
_“What?”_  
_“He's dead.”_  
_She stood gaping at him for a while, but quickly ordered:_  
_“Ronja, wake everyone up. We're leaving to Faroe at once. Don't wake anyone else.”_  
_“Aye.”_

_The second in command disappeared and in fifteen minutes, they were all leaving the camp. He saw Carrie looking back just once with a blank expressio before she quickened her pace._

 

He remembered, that the first and the only time he saw her cry was when they arrived at Harviken and she asked her father to show her where the ship with Trygve's body was sailed to his last journey. Later, she was standing alone on the quay, looking East and sobbing. He didn't dare to approach her and they've never spoken about it.  
Now, she was gone, again, and this time as many times before – nothing could stop her from getting what she wanted, they all knew it well. And what she wanted this time was revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcin Przybyłowicz, Mikołaj Stroiński „After the Storm”


	20. Halbjorn Velen 1265

HALBJORN

 

Velen 1265  
Harviken  
Faroe

Since the tragic feast a long time has passed, but many reminders of it were present in the hall of his father's house. A taster for one, Ulf, young man from his own clan, who volunteered for the job. Everything what the jarl's family ate was tested first for any poison. The supplies and food were double checked. All the life in Faroe seemed to be circling around possible assassination and it all started a year ago when his sister came back home from the raid.

 

 _Velen 1264_  
_Harviken_  
_Faroe_

 _He observed her standing on the harbour and looking at the horizon. She was motionless for a few hours until, after dusk, she came home with a stern face._  
_“Father, we need to talk. Only the family and Mousesack” – she stated calmly._  
_Hearing her words, everyone left the hall, but their family and the druid. When they were alone, she asked:_  
_“How did he die?”_  
_“Poison” – Mousesack answered. – “It's called cantarella.”_  
_“I heard about it. Woman's weapon or... Nilfgaardian” – Carrie replied slowly._  
_“Do you think, that...?” – his father trailed off._  
_“Did he have any quarrel with a mistress?” – Carrie continued._  
_“You know, that he loved Muriel greatly. There was no mistress, sis” – Halbjorn answered._  
_“And Muriel?” – Carrie continued._  
_“You don't think, that she... She is a family, she had no reason and we all know, that she loved him probably even more” – his mother replied strongly. – “She is devastated, barely eats, never leaves their rooms. She even wanted to go with him, but... we didn't allow it. She is so young...”_  
_“I just wanted to hear that, mother. I... trust her. But people change. So: it leaves only one explanation” – Carrie stated._  
_“Nilfgaard” – their father finished for her._  
_“Yes. Emhyr var Emreis.”_  
_“Why? Why would he risk an international conflict to kill a son of one of the jarls? Wouldn't he go for Svanrige, if it was him?” – Mousesack asked. – “Maybe one of the jarls... Madman is...” – he trailed off, but was interrupted:_  
_“Exactly! We're already looking for internal enemies. We are doing the whole job for the Emperor. Emhyr is testing the limits, he wants to know how much damage he can do before attacking. With Cintra taken a year ago, the Isles are an obvious target, as valid as Temeria and Lyria and Rivia. He is weakening us to take us one by one. We cannot let him. Father, gather the meeting of jarls and inform the king. We must stay united at any cost” – Carrie said with a coldness in her voice, but also with strength and determination, which surprised even her brother._  
_“I agree with our daughter” – Kerstin, their mother, stated. – “But what then?”_  
_“I will go to Nilfgaard and find proof. If Emhyr is planning to divide us and conquer, other Northern kings must know, too. But to speak to them Bran an Tuirseach will need more, than just my intuition. The North must be warned, that the storm is coming, if we are to stand a chance.”_  
_“Margaret, did you learn something more in Kerack?” – Holger Blackhand, their father, asked with suspicion._  
_Carrie was looking at him for a long time, but then, she averted her gaze to the fire in the middle of the hall. He saw, that she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw for a while, taking few deep breaths. When she spoke, she had a heavy voice:_  
_“Yes, Father. In the North the Aen Seidhe are preparing to fight. They are called Scoia'tael...”_  
_“We heard about the Squirrels” – Halbjorn interrupted her – “but they are no more than small bands of trouble-makers.”_  
_“No, brother... They are led by elves from the Blue Mountains. They coordinate their actions and they chose the leader – Isengrim Faoiltiarna. I haven't met him, but from what we heard... they are preparing for a full-scale war. And... I don't believe, that it's an accident, that they started their operations just before Nilfgaardian attack on Cintra” – Carrie stated in a grievous voice._  
_“You think, that they will support Emhyr, if he attacks the North?” – Kerstin asked in disbelieve._  
_“I don't think so, mum. I know so” – she said with finality in her voice. – “Bran shall warn Foltest and Meve, as soon as possible.”_

_A long silence fell in the hall. They felt the incoming storm and they knew, that it would consume them all..._

 

The first meeting of jarls took place on An Skellig five months later. He was there and listened to shocked reactions of other jarls when his father shared his daughter's suspicions. He even admitted to everyone, that they had had their suspicions about other Skelliger, but now he had none. It was Madman Lugos, who pulled him in a brotherly embrace after this confession. Halbjorn understood, that the jarls had their quarrels, but were ready to stand against the common enemy, strong and united, despite it all.  
Now, the second meeting was to take place in four months here, on Faroe and everyone hoped, that Carnelian would be back with her proof by then.


	21. Vendela Lammas 1265

VENDELA

 

Lammas 1265  
Tarnhann  
Nilfgaard

Vendela was standing on a balcony of one of the exquisite and elegant houses located in the very centre of Tarnhann. It was midnight as she looked again - through the window - inside the room. It wasn't easy to be on the guard duty, while her captain was having sex with another woman. Not that she shared Margo's taste for women, she was far from being bisexual, but still... Her captain was now lying leisurely on the table, while the golden-blond haired woman was sitting in front of her and was pleasuring her with both of her hands and mouth. Margo was arching to her by now and twitching violently. There was no doubt as to the fact, that both were enjoying themselves immensely. After they were finished, the other woman, Cantarella, moved to kiss Margo and they changed the roles, however, both were now on the table.

_It doesn't look too comfortable, but... well... They are too busy to realise it, I guess._

Two hours later, Margo met her crew in the stables and they were soon galloping South. Far from the city, they stopped and the captain said:  
“Cantarella suggested, that we may be looking for Eilert van Wittenberg.”  
“Did you...?” – Viggo asked.  
“No, obviously not. But she spoke about his visit to Skellige, asking me, whether I had met him there.”  
“Well, it is a clue. Where can we find him?”  
“This is the biggest problem – in the capital, the City of Golden Towers.”  
“We cannot go there. It's a suicide” – Vendela stated.  
“But do we have a choice?” – Leif asked.  
“No. We don't” – Margo answered in concerned voice. – “She said, that he enjoyed sailing. We must go under cover. We'll commandeer a Nordling ship, for example – under the banner of Cidaris and we'll try to meet him in the port. It may work, but we must be prepared for the worst.”  
“Margo, why is he so important? I don't understand... I understand revenge, but...” – Niklas asked with resignation.  
“Niklas, you know that I hate it, but the less you know the better. I never hid things from you before but... it must be like this now.”

Vendela looked at her captain in disbelieve. Something changed and still, she felt, that more things are going to change in the future. As they made their plans and started to prepare for the road, she sighed heavily. Raiding and messing around was one thing, they all enjoyed it immensely, but politics... It felt as if they grew up more in the last months, than in all the previous years of their lives.


	22. Eilert Velen 1265

EILERT

 

Velen 1265  
Night Breeze Tavern  
City of Golden Towers  
Nilfgaard

Sailing with Lisbeth turned out to be more than a fascinating experience. She wasn't the most skilled sailor, but she listened to his orders and followed them eagerly. Still, it was her gentle smile, filled with adoration, what enchanted him. Right now, she was kneeling on the rear deck trying hard to fasten the hawser:  
“Eilert! I can't... this cleat hitch is beyond me...” – she called him resignedly.  
“Come, my darling, I will show you again” – he said, sitting next to her with a wide smile.  
“I've learned more from you in these two weeks than from my father's crew in the last month. They despise me” – she stated in a sad voice.  
“You are the merchant's daughter, they will always feel like that about you. Your status, position, it will always make you better than them. They may be simple but they know things like that” – he said slowly, trying to comfort her.  
“I guess. You are always right, my captain” – Lisbeth answered looking up at him and leaning to him for a kiss.

He observed her on their way to the tavern. Her medium-cut, red, curly hair was falling graciously on her shoulders in a mess and the small nose was slightly red from the wind. Her body was tempting, so tempting under her light, dark green dress and black, richly ornamented coat.

_Maybe today? Maybe it is time to take her to my place? Isn't almost a month a time enough to show my respect?_

They were conversing lightly in a tavern, they had already eaten and now both were finishing their wine. She stated sweetly:  
“You are a great teacher.”  
“Thank you, my darling. I'm doing my best” – he smiled at her fondly, while she was looking at him intently, biting slightly her lower lip, before she said:  
“I bet, that there is much more you can teach me, captain...”  
He looked into those grey, almost innocent eyes, which were now looking teasingly and hesitantly at the same time. But her voice was filled with desire.

_Captain... if you call me like that when... oh... I would have you right here and right now, little bird._

“Would you go with me to my place? I guess, that there we will have more... pleasing environment.”  
“With pleasure” – she answered getting up, allowing him to help her dress in the coat and gently taking his hand.

_At last. I waited a painfully long time to have you._

At his house, they didn't even talk. Already at the door, he started to kiss and undress her, while she was giving herself to him eagerly. In the bedroom, she removed his pants and looked him deep in the eyes whispering:  
“Oh... captain...”  
A moment later, she pushed him to the bed and knelt in front of him, taking him into her mouth. He panted heavily, but thought for a second, if he should let go. She, as if reading his mind, looked at him and smiled, putting one of her hands below her lips on his length and other on his testicles. Needless to say, he lost control quickly and came into her mouth. As she crawled up and knelt next to him, he looked up and said:  
“I'm not sure if there is much you need to learn, my love. At least in bedroom.”  
“There are always things, that you can learn, captain” – she said seductively.  
Upon hearing that, he got up and stood at the bed's edge, turning her around to see her ripe bottom and beautifully spread tights. He stood behind her, but started with pleasuring her with his hands. The moment she was wet enough, he entered her and grabbed her hips possessively. She moaned with satisfaction and tilted her hips up. Soon, he was plundering her with abandon, hearing only her loud, satisfied moans. As he came, she twitched violently under him and was panting heavily. When he slid out of her, she collapsed on the bed. He moved to her and looked at her face, as she stated:  
“Hmm... That was new” – with a wide grin.  
“Did you like it?” – he asked with a teasing smile of his own.  
“I've never come so hard before” – she said sweetly and chuckled.

They were lying together for a while, kissing and touching a little, but he decided to go to sleep. She - obviously - stayed, lying her head trustingly on his shoulder.

_I really like you, little bird. I will keep you for a while, maybe even longer?_

When he woke up, still naked, he was tied to his own bed and his mouth was gagged. He looked around to see Lisbeth searching through his papers. He started to scream, but his voice was muffled. However, she heard him and turned around. She looked the same, but everything about her was different. Her eyes were cold and demanding, her face was tensed as she approached him saying:  
“You are a shitty lover, but even shittier spy. I didn't cum, wasn't even close. You think, that I'm a sprinter? Anyway, if you cannot recognise fake moans from the real, you never really cared for women you were with, but... it is not why you are going to die tonight, scum. The only question is whether you will die long and painfully or quickly. It's your choice. Just nod if you understand.”

Her voice... it wasn't Lisbeth he knew, who was she? But still, he nodded slowly.  
“Ah... my name is Margaret Laura from the clan Dimun, but they call me Carnelian. You killed my brother, remember? Poisoning on Faroe?” – he nodded very slowly. – “And, just for you to know, you are a shitty sailor, as well. I wanted to puke listening to all the shit you think you know about sailing, but truth to be told: you are as green as grass and a land rat. The Skelliger crew would throw such a captain to the sea on the first day, because in Skellige: your worth is not measured by status, but by your deeds. The Skelliger crew will follow you to the hell and back again, if you are worth it. If not, no one will be surprised to hear about your 'accidental' death at the sea” – she said and smiled viciously.  
Hearing that, his blood froze, just before it started to flow from various cuts she made when he didn't answer her questions by nodding or shaking his head fast enough. The last thing he heard was:  
“So, you killed my brother on the order of the Emperor, in order to cause quarrel on the Isles. And as to this map, I'll find a commando there - the commando, which already agreed to work for Nilfgaard. Who is the commander?”  
He shook his head and she believed him.  
“If so, I have no further use of you.”  
She approached him and slit his throat. Then, he faded away for good, looking in those flint-grey eyes, which now were everything but innocent.


	23. Viggo Velen 1265

VIGGO

 

Velen 1265  
harbour  
City of Golden Towers  
Nilfgaard

At dawn, they were running through the port, dragging Niklas' dead body to the ship. When they got there, the captain shouted:  
“Viggo, to the sail! Ragnar cut the hawser! We must run!”

They managed, but it was close, too close. They have been already sailing on the waters of the Great Sea to the North as they saw the pursuit: four ships with golden suns on black sails. But it is not easy to take over Skelliger, even sailing on the Nordling ship. They manoeuvred for many hours, changing directions, but they lost them at the coasts of Gemmera. After dusk, they all went silent and the captain stated, looking at the dead body of their comrade:  
“It was a good day to die” – she paused. – “Now, go to drink and feast with our ancestors. There is nothing you shall be ashamed of, cause we achieved together more than many.”  
“Farewell!” – they all stated and threw Niklas' body to the Sea.  
There was no crying, no tears. It was a good day to die, after all.

They needed to make a stop near Tarnhann to retrieve their drakkar, which thankfully, was waiting untouched. They say that a boat is just a boat, but... not Svart Fiskgjuse – this ship was like a part of the crew. They were sailing on it for the last six years, from the very beginning of their adventure.

When they were packing their belongings and some spoils, he observed Ronja curiously. He was in love with her for the last six years, since the day they've met, but they never acted on it, never even spoke about it. He was far from being sure, that she felt something remotely similar to his feelings for her. When he caught her watching him sometimes, he believed, that it may all be just in his head. Only for the last year... something was different.  
It wasn't even that they couldn't be together – they could. Even Margo, who was the only one he told about it, promised to accept it. He told her his story two years ago, when they were all so drunk, that he was sure, that she wouldn't remember anything the next day. But he was wrong, she did. She remembered everything. Their captain may not care for many things, but she certainly cared for her people, every single one of them.

Now, as they were getting to their drakkar, she stood at Niklas favourite sit, which was empty. She stood there for a long while completely motionless and deep in her thoughts. Losing a man was hard on her. Every single time. He knew it, they all knew it and this was the reason why they were and would always be ready to follow her. Even to the world's end.

After a time, they sailed out and at the open sea she fished a map out of her pocket and started:  
“I took a map from Eilert's place. He said, that it displays the location of the Scoia'tael commando, which already agreed to work for Emhyr...”  
“What? The Aen Seidhe plan to ally with Nilfgaard?” – Viggo asked in disbelieve.  
“Yes. I suspected it for a while. After my brother's death I realised, that Emperor may have plans. Much bigger plans, than just Cintra.”  
“You mean...? Skellige?”  
“Maybe. Or Temeria or Lyria and Rivia? Hard to say, though... the war is coming and it's getting complicated.”  
“But if Aen Seidhe will fight... what...? I mean, we know them. We lived with them!” – Ronja exclaimed nervously and added: – “I don't want to...”  
“Me neither” – the captain replied. – “We will fight on the sea and there is a little chance we will meet them. Still... I want to make sure first. I think, that we shall go to this mysterious location...”

They went silent and sailed back home with heavy hearts. Everything was starting to get even more messed up, than they anticipated.


	24. Halbjorn Yule 1266

HALBJORN

 

Yule 1266  
Trottheim  
Faroe

Carnelian came in time with information, which confirmed beyond doubts, that she was right. Emhyr var Emreis was preparing the invasion on the Northern Realms and he planned it soon. Skelliger were ready, they fought at Cintra three years ago, at Calanthe's side and they lost. But, they learned their lesson.  
For Halbjorn, Carrie's presence was a good distraction. He felt, that the weight of his new responsibilities was crushing him, along with the need for quick marriage. Now, he and his sister were sitting on the drakkar and sailing around the isle for the second time.  
“You spoke a lot about responsibilities, jarls, politics, but... I doubt it's the reason, why we are sailing in circles around the isle... What is wrong?” – Carrie asked.  
“I need to marry...”  
“Good for you.”  
“Funny...”  
“But you are with Vigdis a couple for... what? Two years? And she is a perfect candidate. Why do you hesitate?”  
“I... thought, that I have time...”  
“But you are twenty-three!”  
“You are older... and no one is pushing you to marry.”  
“Because I have little chance to need an heir. You, on the other hand, owe me a nephew to assure, that I wouldn't need to become a jarl” – she chuckled at his expression.  
“I don't like you...”  
“I love you, brother.”  
“Oh... sis... And what do you plan to do, hmm?”  
“I will go back to the Continent for the summer, bro.”  
“Why?”  
“There is... something I need to know. I'll take my crew and my drakkar, no one else.”  
“I have a bad feeling about this, sis.”  
“I know. But... I'll regret it for the rest of my life, if I stay...”  
“OK. I get it. Just... take my xenovox, Mousesack has a twin. He'll be able to come to your aid, if needed.”  
“Thanks. But I'll be fine” – she said and smiled warmly.

They were sailing for a while longer and he observed his sister with worry. She changed quite a lot in the last years. There was a new tension, something bothering her all the time. Before, she was never so secretive, always living her life quite in the open, not caring about anyone's opinion about her choices. Now, well... she was keeping things to herself. She seemed torn as well. Something happened, he knew it, but... he never asked. He was sure, that she would tell more in her own time.


	25. Margo Feainn 1266

Presto

 

MARGO

 

Feainn 1266  
dusk  
the camp  
near the Ina river  
Temeria

They found the camp in the shadows of the great Mahakam mountains. It was located on the foothills, near the spring of the river Ina. A strong and warm wind was blowing down from the mountains right in their faces as they climbed up. They came close to the line of sentinels and she whistled, before emerging from their shadows. She heard the answer and recognised the voice:  
“Toru!”  
“Margo! You are alive! And here!”  
“It's good to see you too, saere!”

_So this is the commando I was looking for. Iorveth is working for Nilfgaardians. Fuck... Why am I surprised? I feared it since I've found the map. Always so ambitious, always willing to go one step further... And what now?_

Toruviel led them all to the commando, now including more than thirty men and women. They knew some and were greeted enthusiastically. But her mood fell, when Toruviel took her to the side and said in a concerned voice:  
“He was waiting for you to come back last year... and even then he was angry, that you left as you did... Now...”  
“Do you say, that we should leave?” – Margo asked struggling to keep her voice steady.

_Maybe it would be for the best... Things are getting complicated. But I missed him so much..._

“No... but he will be angry, Margo. I don't know, what he will do. He may throw you out. Just... don't expect warm welcoming.”  
“I don't.”  
“Why didn't you come back sooner, sor'ca? We missed you.”  
“I... had something to do. Family business.”  
“Oh... I see. But you didn't get married or something, because...”  
“No, Toru. You know me, things like that are not for me” – Margo replied chuckling.  
“Well” – Toruviel smiled warmly at her. – “He is at the spring, taking a bath and, as far as I know, he is alone. You didn't expect...”  
“Obviously” – Margo stated calmly and went in the pointed direction.

She ventured through thick bushes to emerge at the source of the river. There he was indeed: naked, with few new scars on his back, but alive and well. He was standing with his back to her, what gave her the chance to observe him without being noticed. Soon, she felt how aroused she was, just by looking at his body and thinking, what they would do. It wasn't even the fact, that his body was incredibly beautiful, what was obviously the truth. But, no...

_Looking at him I can almost feel him again. Like, despite the time, my body was yearning for his skin, for his touch and the mere memory was enough to awake this desire._

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself, took another step towards him and leaned on a tree at the edge of the small clearing. Then, he turned around and their eyes met.

_Those green eyes... looking at me as if I was naked. Always focused and lustful. I'm lost every time I look in them..._

His face displayed many emotions but anger was not one of them. They were standing like that for a long time before he started to approach her slowly. As he was moving towards her she noticed, that his desire for her didn't change a bit, either. She felta small smile on her lips, while she was looking at him, as he stopped and stood within her reach. They didn't move or speak for a while. Still, she couldn't stop her hands from reaching to cup his face. His reaction caught her off guard: he grabbed both of her hands surely by wrists and kept them at the level of his chest, in the air. They were both breathing heavily, but he spoke:  
“No, Margo.”  
“I...”  
“You left me two years ago. Why?” – he asked looking deep in her eyes, scrutinising her face.  
“I needed to go.”  
“You could at least say goodbye. You didn't, why?”  
“I didn't have time.”

_How was I to tell you, that the jarl's son is my brother? I... couldn't. How would you react? Oh, Iorveth. I hate this conversation._

“What could possibly be so urging?”  
“Family business” – at this vague reply, he raised his eyebrow high, but asked further:  
“Why did you come back, then?”  
“I wanted to see you. I missed it.”  
“What?”  
“You” – she answered calmly.  
“No... you said, that you missed _it_ ” – he stated coldly, putting emphasis on the last word. – “What did you mean?”

She stared at him confused and stopped breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leona Lewis „I See You”


	26. Iorveth Feainn 1266

IORVETH

 

Feainn 1266  
evening  
the spring of the Ina  
Temeria

He was waiting patiently for her answer for a long time. Too long. He closed his eyes and breathed even heavier than before.

_There she is again. I feel the warmth of her body radiating from her. I want her and a hundred things I would do to her right here and right now. But... I am a person, not a toy. In moments like this, I'm not sure if she realises that._

She still didn't say a word. He opened his eyes to see the tension on her face. When he spoke, he was already calm and almost cold:  
“You missed sex with me, Margo. This is what you truly wanted to say. But no more.”  
“What? Are you...?” – she huffed in irritation.  
“Yes. I am and it's not negotiable” – he said with cold finality in his voice.  
“So you want me to disappear for good?” – she asked angrily at once.  
“If sex is the only thing you came here for, then yes. I want you to go and never come back.”

She was looking at him in disbelieve and with stubbornness. He waited for a long time, again. She spoke nothing, so he released her wrists and headed to dress up.

_What will you do now, luned? Will you fight or will you give up? If the second... I was an utter fool for the last two years wasting my thoughts on you... Seeing your face in every..._

He sighed and already fully dressed, headed to the camp passing her. Just when he passed the tree she was leaning on, she spoke:  
“And if not?”  
He smirked at this small victory. Surprisingly, his patience was working better than anything else.

_Maybe..._

“Then why?” – he asked looking ahead, not even sparing her a glance.  
“I wanted to make sure, that you are alive. I was worried.”

_This is a start, then... Maybe we can... Do I seriously think, that she would stay for longer? That she would... I will never know unless I try..._

“Sleep with me” – he stated with a much warmer voice.  
“What?!” – she exclaimed. – “Haven't you just...?”  
“No. Just sleep with me. In my tent. Every night. Then... we will see.”  
“Is this a blackmail?!” – she exclaimed in an irritated voice. – “I made a mistake.”  
“See! This is what I was talking about. I am not your toy, Margo” – he turned around to see her standing behind him.  
“You are a hypocrite! I remember en'ca minne. You have sex with no attachment all the time. Why do you expect something different from me? Isn't it what you want: free love?”  
“No. We, Aen Seidhe, we care for each other, we are ready to die for each other all the time. We are all bounded in a way you cannot even imagine. We are all committed to this, even if not romantically to each other, we still are. You, on the other hand, you are like a wind: you come and go, you care for nothing, but your own desires. En'ca minne is a way to remind ourselves, that there are things worth fighting for, worth living for. Passion and love are what makes us - us. But you, Margo, you live for a different purpose and different goals” – he stated calmly, almost resigned.  
“Like what? What do you think you know about me, elf?!”  
She stopped right there, but it was too late. She said it, in a voice very close to contempt. He was dumbfounded and stared at her with wide eyes, not sure what to do or say. He didn't expect that. Her face was already full of regret when she said:  
“I didn't mean...”  
“Oh, dh'oine. You did” – he said closing his eyes and swallowing hard.  
“Squaess'me...”  
He hid his face behind his hands, before looking back at her and stated:  
“Ambition and power. You are driven by ambition and power. Both traits are so typical for your race. Both traits are the very reason why my people were dispossessed and are dying. You are the impersonalisation of all of that. You take what you want and how you want it. I was a fool to think, that I am anything else for you. You wanted to be with me, not even just to please yourself, but to prove, that you can. You took me, used me and tossed me aside. I was a fool to believe otherwise...” – he was getting angrier by the minute right now, especially looking at her expressionless face.  
“So why did you agree? If you knew all these things why did you offer, what you offered a while ago?” – she barked at him.  
“I wanted you, I told you that long ago. Gods... I still do. But not like that.”  
“So like what? What else could you possibly take from me?!” – her voice started to shake slightly at the last question.

He hesitated and then he saw it: fear. Her always tensed and demanding face was now expressing fear and... pain. He stopped breathing and closed his eyes again.

_How could I be so blind? I was trying to hate her so much, for such a long time, that I forgot, what I've already known about her. What I've already accepted about her._

“Margo...”  
“No. We are leaving. So sorry for wasting your precious time...”  
“But Margo... Margo! I...” – he called after her and she stopped in her tracks.  
She was still looking ahead, but she didn't move, thus he continued:  
“I want you.”  
“We've already established that two years ago, remember?” – she mocked turning around to face him.  
“Fondly” – he chuckled. – “I want...”  
“What Iorveth? This is what I am trying to learn now... What do you want?”  
“I care for you. Too much. You are not en'ca minne for me, luned.”

The fear on her face was back, accompanied by confusion.  
“No, Iorveth. I don't know, what it was for you, but I know what it is now: a power play. I left you and you want to have all the control back. I am many things, you are right. But you are not a saint, either. You yearn for control, you get high on it” – she paused and looked with rage at him continuing: – “But you will not control me. Ever.”  
After hearing her words, he stared at her, confused and pensive.

_You are right. I am and I know. Maybe this is exactly why..._

“So what now?” – he inquired instead.  
“I'll sleep with you, not because you blackmailed me to do it, but because I actually missed it. I'll try to... be more considerate, but you'll never ever blackmail me again. You can shout and scream, I don't care, but I won't stand for blackmail. I will suffer your controlling and complaining self, I got used to it. But not this” – she said, surprising him again.

_You are surrendering a little bit more, again and so am I. So there is a chance for us..._

“All right. I won't. And I won't freak out every time you leave me alone in bed in the morning.”  
“Fine” – she stated and walked to the camp.

_It could go better, but it could go much worse, as well._

He followed her to his camp and caught up with her on the way, so they arrived together. Toruviel and Yeavinn approached them at once, smiling widely. As they all sat by the bonfire, he heard Toruviel whispering to Margo:  
“This is Dáirine” – she motioned the Seidhe with long, blond hair and blue eyes – “she won't like you.”  
“Why?”  
“Iorveth.”  
“I see” – Margo stated coldly and spoke no more.

_My former... what really? Lover? Well.. we were sleeping together for a very short time, but... She is hurt. I know it. And with Margo's arrival, well Toru is right..._

After some time, when everyone was conversing merrily and it got late, he looked at Margo and motioned his head in the direction of the tents. She smiled and stood up. They headed to his tent, talking on their way about trifle things. Once inside, they stayed only in their pants and laid down facing each other. She had mischief in her eyes, but he rolled her around and spooned her, hugging her gently. Then, he whispered:  
“Don't even consider teasing me. You promised.”  
“I was just... asking a question” – she chuckled, tilting her head.  
Feeling her so close was torture itself. He was trying hard not to react to her body, but the effort was futile. He reminded himself a hundred times, that it was him, who wanted it like this, that he had reasons. But... he still hated it. To his surprise, unlike before, it was her, who fell asleep first.


	27. Margo Feainn 1266

MARGO

 

Feainn 1266  
the camp  
near the Ina  
Temeria

She woke up to the strange sensation. She moved and heard a deep male chuckle. Then, her thoughts started to fully comprehend the situation. Iorveth was breathing to her ear and his breath was teasing skin on her neck, what itself would make her arc to him with a moan. But, he already had his hand in her pants and was drawing small circles on her most sensitive spot.  
“Oh...” – she moaned loudly as the last sensation reached her mind.  
“Hmm...”  
“I see, that two weeks of abstinence is enough. Finally...” – she mocked him.  
“I'm not sure. But I woke up so hard, that it's unbearable” – he stated matter-of-factly.  
“Poor you... oh...” – she would mock him further, but he already inserted his fingers inside her, what effectively changed her last word into a moan.  
He would probably wait a little longer for her to wake up, judging by his patient ministrations, but she removed her clothing and turned to face him with a sleepy smile.  
She realised, that he is thinking hard right now, but quickly stopped altogether. He grabbed her leg and pulled her up a little, on his body. She was half-lying on him when he positioned himself and entered her easily. She was surprised just for a moment, but laughed and adjusted herself to move in this position, however, their movements were more than limited. They were incredibly close as they found their rhythm and moved together. When she felt him tensing, she realised, that he moved his hand, with some difficulty, to her and touched her clitoris gently. It turned out to be enough for her today. He came first, but she followed soon. They looked at each other and rested in the same position for a long time, entangled closely.  
As they were still lying together, naked, with him inside her, they heard footsteps and a female voice called:  
“Commander!” – she recognised the voice immediately, it was Dáirine.  
“I'll be right there” – he called back in a hoarse voice.  
The Seidhe respectively retreated. Margo and Iorveth disentangled and looked at each other, while dressing up.  
“That was awkward” – she started coldly.  
“We may have visitors, soon. There is much to do.”  
“Who?”  
“Isengrim and probably Coinneach” – he stated slowly.  
“Ah... We may leave if...”  
“No, absolutely not. Stay” – he said smiling widely – “I just fucked you for the first time in years. I'm far from done” – he chuckled.  
“Hmm... interesting. I will remind you that in the evening” – she smiled at him teasingly.  
“I may even remember that around midday, you know...” – they both chuckled and emerged outside.

They headed together to the fire, where many of their men were already sitting. Iorveth sat next to Dáirine and started to converse with her, while Margo went to Viggo and Ronja. Everyone in the camp was ready, but the visitors didn't come.

The next day, she was sparring with Sitheach and Echel. They both learned a lot since the last time she was training with them. Then, she needed to spar with them both to truly feel the adrenaline and the rush typical for the fight, you don't know the outcome of. Today, fighting them both at the same time was a true challenge, but they all had fun, too. Still, when they've finished and all laid on the grass, panting heavily, she was exhausted. Just as Echel threw grass in her face and she tried to kick him, they all heard the footsteps and looked up to see Dáirine.  
The female Seidhe was so extremely beautiful, that Margo barely believed it possible. She could just stare at her and admire every inch of her hair, face and body.

_If you weren't so angry at me... well... we would have a lot of fun together._

But the moment their eyes met, Dáirine's face turned into contempt. She spoke coldly:  
“You all were to train, the commander specifically told you so.”  
“We did and now we are relaxing. C'mon, Iorveth would never say anything. He knows how exhausting this one can be” – Echel looked at Margo, winked and all started to laugh.  
But not for long. The woman above them looked Margo straight in the eyes:  
“If they're too exhausted, you can spar with me, would you?” – she asked with faked politeness.  
Margo didn't reply at once, thinking.

_I am exhausted, too. I can barely move my hands. My legs ache... But... I cannot be disrespectful towards this Seidhe._

So, however unwillingly, she still replied:  
“Obviously” – getting up and sighing.  
They were encircling each other at first, but Dáirine attacked quickly. They fought for real. After a few minutes, Margo was kneeling, bleeding from her back, while the Seidhe was on the ground with deep cuts on her arms and leg. It was Toruviel, who called:  
“Stop that at once!”  
Margo abode the order and let go of her swords immediately, but... Dáirine got up to the sitting position and didn't: cutting unarmed Margo on the face. She shrieked in shock and everyone got in between them. Sitheach and Echel were at once at Margo's side and looked in horror at the long, horizontal wound on her cheek. For a moment, everyone went silent and pure horror crept to their faces.

In the evening, she was lying in her own, almost unused, tent. Every female in the camp but Dáirine, obviously, spent the last few hours tending to her wounds and sitting with her. Iorveth, thankfully, was gone hunting. All were nervous, but Margo spoke calmly:  
“Toru, it was an accident. She couldn't hear you.”  
“Don't even try, Margo. I was there” – Toruviel replied.  
“My friends, could you leave the two of us alone for a while?” – the captain asked politely, but demandingly.  
The rest left, leaving only her and Toruviel inside the tent. Margo asked slowly:  
“What happened between her and Iorveth?”  
“They had sex.”  
“Obviously, but it doesn't explain anything.”  
“He may...”  
“What?”  
“...have called her by your name.”  
“Wow...” – Margo replied shaking her head. – “He fucked up. Big time.”  
“Yes. And I think, that she was a little bit obsessed before, but after...”  
“She was hurt. Did he...?”  
“What? Apologise? Obviously not. You know him. When I told him to do so, he just laughed and said, that it was a trifle.”  
“Idiot” – Margo stated. – “Toru?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I need to ask you for a favour...”  
“Anything, sor'ca.”  
“Lie to him and order everyone to lie, too.”  
“What?!” – the Seidhe exclaimed in shock.  
“You heard me. Say, that it was an accident and my fault.”  
“No, Margo. It...”  
“So, at least, don't say anything at all, say that you haven't seen the whole scene. I will do the lying.”  
“Why? You owe her nothing.”  
“Exactly. But now, she would owe me.”  
Toruviel pondered for a long time, before saying in an unwilling voice:  
“OK. I'll go to tell the rest.”  
“Thank you, saere.”

Half an hour later Iorveth marched to her tent already agitated. He looked at her in horror before asking:  
“What happened? No one saw a thing and Dáirine is missing.”  
“She is so sorry, that it happened, that she needed to leave for a walk. It was just an accident while sparring. I shouldn't have asked her to spar in the first place: I was too tired already. I lost my balance and she measured the distance wrong. It was my fault, me mienne.”  
He was looking at her with disbelieve in his eyes until she said the last two words. Then, his face relaxed and he smiled gently, approaching her and lying next to her.  
“Do you want to sleep alone?” – he asked warmly.  
“No. I want you to stay” – she answered and cuddled herself in his embrace.  
“So I will, ma mienne.”  
His warm and gentle voice made her close her eyes.

_I played you so easily... Oh, Iorveth... Why do you care for me so much? Why do you trust me at all?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Svrcina „Meet Me On The Battlefield”


	28. Milva Lammas 1266

MILVA

 

Lammas 1266  
the camp  
near the Ina  
Temeria

She was walking slowly through the forest. It was the middle of the day and temperature was high, would be probably unbearable, if not for a wind coming gently from the direction of the mountains. She saw a clearing in front of her and it was beautifully bathed in the sunlight. She walked by its edge and realised, that someone was already there. Or two people actually... To be exact: two Seidhe, a male and a female were sitting in the middle of the clearing, both had their legs entangled at each other's backs. He was grabbing her hips and she was holding his shoulders, while she was moving slightly up and down, kissing him passionately.

_Aen Seidhe and sex... I just walked in... What the...?!_

A man grabbed her and pushed her to the tree. He had short, red hair and brown eyes, which were now scrutinising her. He was strongly-build, but handsome. Still, he was definitely a dh'oine. The man asked in a calm voice:  
“Watching is not polite, nobody told you that?”  
“They are Seidhe, they don't care, some even like it” – she stated huffing. – “And you?”  
“I'm guarding the clearing from someone like you. What are you doing here?”  
“I'm a Brokiloéne. I'm looking for the Aen Seidhe...”  
“For the commando? All right, I'll take you to Toru. Let's allow her to decide, while the commander is... occupied otherwise.”  
“I thought, that it was Iorveth, but who is she? I've never seen her before and I would remember. She has amazing tits for a Seidhe” – she continued their conversation, while they walked.  
“You will learn or not, it's not my place to decide” – he answered cryptically.  
“He always had a taste, Toru is the best example of that. Though... he would fuck anything, that walks and talks, too. But this, what we saw, it was not en'ca minne... They were one, truly... Hmm... By the way, what a dh'oine is doing with the Scoia'tael commando?”  
“Guarding the premises” – he said.  
“Haha!” – she laughed heartedly. – “I like you, what's your name?”  
“Ragnar” – he replied looking at her.  
“Skelliger? Interesting.”

But, as she wanted to speak again, he whistled and they heard the reply. They emerged at the clearing and Toruviel called:  
“Milva, sor'ca! It's great to see you!”  
“Toru” – she replied and smiled.  
“Ragnar, it's fine. We know her” – the Seidhe said to the man beside her. – “Are they finishing? We need to talk.”  
“Do you think that I watch them?”  
“Well...”  
“You are shameless. I, on the other hand, stay politely out of sight, not to be tempted...”  
They all laughed and she joined the commando at the meal.

Maybe an hour later, Iorveth emerged from the forest with a woman at his side. Now, as she saw her standing, she gaped. The woman was tall, but too short for a Seidhe. She was beautiful, true, but far from Aen Seidhe beauty and she had a long scar on her entire left cheek. They came relaxed and he was hugging her, keeping her close to his body, while she had both hands leisurely in her pockets. As she was speaking, he was looking at her intently, smiling fondly all the time. Milva knew Iorveth for two years by now, but had never seen him like that before.  
As they came closer, Iorveth stated:  
“Margo, this is Milva, sor'ca from Brokilon. Milva, may I introduce Margo and her crew, our friends.”  
“Friends, fraere? This is how you call it?” – Milva asked and he chuckled, but the woman said in a strong, still warm voice:  
“Pleasure to make your acquittance, Brokiloéne.”  
“Pleasure is mine...” – she trailed off thinking how to address this woman.  
“Captain at first, then just Margo, later it's sor'ca, either way, so let's cut to the chase, sor'ca” – she stated in a pleasant voice, but Milva realised, that this is a voice of a person, who doesn't allow any disobedience.  
“Agreed.”  
“It's good, that you are so close already, because – this one here – has seen you naked” – Ragnar stated in a mocking voice.  
The woman looked at her and laughed, so everybody followed.

_But they were waiting for her reaction first. Wow..._

“And how did you like it?” – Margo asked with a smirk.  
“I took you for a Seidhe” – Milva stated sincerely.  
“It's very nice of you, however, I'm not even half as beautiful” – she said with a smile.  
“Margo...” – Iorveth cut in their conversation.  
“Oh, me mienne, don't be silly. I know, what I am and so do you. I'm not saying, that I don't consider myself beautiful, I do. But I'm far from the beauty of your race...”  
“I will not comment, anything I say would be wrong. So come, ma mienne, we came here to eat” – he said surrendering, but he kissed her gently on their way.

_Ma mienne... It's not for show... he meant it. The Iorveth, ruthless Aen Seidhe commander in love with a dh'oine... The irony of fate..._

The next morning Milva emerged from the tent, in which Margo invited her to stay in. It was almost unused, either way. She found Iorveth and Toruviel deep in the conversation:  
“It's time, Toru. There is too many of us” – he stated.  
“You want me to go? To take men and... leave you?” – she asked in a sad voice.  
“We must split. The commando is too numerous. We'll have problems with provisions and we'll draw attention, soon. I will miss you immensely, but...”  
“I've always wanted it. I was waiting for this moment, but as it is here... the only thing I feel is sorrow” – she said hugging him closely. – “But, I agree. I'll take ten and we'll go.”  
“You can come to Brokilon for a while, saere” – Milva joined their conversation.  
“I think so, but we will leave in autumn, no sooner” – Toru answered with a smile.  
“And were is Margo?” – Milva asked with a smile.  
“They left at dawn to scout” – Iorveth answered. – “She suggested, that we make circles scouting, but with the centre far from our camp and she tends to be right in things like that. She always knew more about fighting, than we did. But, do me a favour, don't tell her, that I said so” – he chuckled lightly.  
“Who is she, Iorveth?” – Milva continued.  
“A captain of the pirates' crew, you heard” – he replied.  
“Hmm...”  
“What?”  
“Nothing. I'm just thinking, but you are right. It doesn't matter” – she replied and smiled.

She spent a week with the commando and the crew. As she was leaving, it was Iorveth, who walked with her for a while. When they were far from the camp, he asked:  
“Could you keep their presence here a secret, Milva?”  
“You mean the pirates? Why? Are you ashamed?”  
“Ashamed? No. Obviously not” – he shook his head violently. – “I'm not sure as to the reaction of the rest to the fact, that they are Skelliger. I'd rather tell them myself.”  
“Well... I don't meddle in Scoia'tael business, never did. I will speak nothing, fraere. But... you should. They would need to accept it, if...” – she trailed off.  
“If she stays for longer. I don't really care about their approval... But... I don't know” – he said blankly.  
“She is complicated, isn't she?”  
“Yes.”  
“You are not an easy man, too...”  
“I know”.  
“But she cares deeply for you, fraere” – he chuckled before asking:  
“And how do you know, wise one?” – he asked mockingly.  
“I'm a woman. I can see. For example, the way she reacts to your every touch, to your voice. She is focused on you and that means, that she cares. But...”  
“Hmm?”  
“You care even more. And sorry to be the one, who breaks it to you, but she will leave you. Sooner or later, but she will” – she stated sorrowfully.  
“I know” – he said with even greater sorrow – “but not yet. Va fail, sor'ca!”  
“Va fail.”

She left them with a heavy heart, thinking if she would ever see them again.


	29. Iorveth Velen 1266

IORVETH

 

Velen 1266  
the camp  
near the Ina  
Temeria

He was sitting alone, playing his flute. The melody always brought her to his mind...

_Ma Seren Radiant... My Radiant Star..._

Margo came to him and sat leaning her body on his. He stopped playing and buried his face in her hair whispering:  
“It's about you, you know, ma Seren...”  
“Hmm... this may be true. I come to you mostly after dark” – she chuckled and tilted her head to kiss him. – “I like it here with you, you know?” – she whispered softly to his ear, licking it with her tongue.  
“I'm beginning to, but I may need a little bit more convincing...” – he teased her.  
But she only chuckled and cuddled her face in the small of his neck, sneaking her hands around his waist. They rested like that for a long time before she asked:  
“In which constellation?”  
“Draco.”  
“The dragon? Why?”  
“It's visible for the whole year, but in the summer, it's the easiest to see it. And one of its stars we call Tir-An-Ná, a Life in the Heaven. It may not be the brightest star of the constellation, but it has unique, blue-white light.”  
“Talking to me like that will get you anywhere” – she looked him in the eyes with a playful smile.  
“Anywhere?” – he asked chuckling again.  
“Margo, Ragnar is asking for you” – it was Dáirine, who interrupted them.

_Obviously..._

“Sure. Thank you, Dáirine” – Margo replied with a polite smile and got up.

He watched her leave, observing with a grin her hips rolling gently and her steady pace. Then, Dáirine spoke:  
“She is a pirate.”  
“I know, Dáirine” – he looked at the Seidhe with a bored expression – “We've always known.”  
“And did you know, that she is probably the one wanted for killing Eilert van Wittenberg, our ally, in his bed?”  
“What?” – he looked at her dangerously now, getting up to stand face-to-face with her.  
“So she didn't tell you, what she was doing last summer” – Dáirine stated with a triumph.  
“And why do you care? How many did we kill, hmm?”  
“He was our ally.”  
“She couldn't have known.”  
“You were always saying, that we need Nilfgaardians to trust us.”  
“Where are you heading with this?”  
“They will be here, for her, tomorrow morning, commander” – she stated calmly.  
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” – he exclaimed and attacked her, she dodged and soon Echel and Yeavinn were keeping him by his arms.  
“What is it, Iorveth?” – it was Margo's concerned voice coming from behind him.  
“SAY THAT AGAIN, TRAITOR!” – he shouted to Dáirine, who said calmly:  
“Nilfgaardians will be here tomorrow to arrest you, Margo. Only you, they don't know about your men.”

Dead silence fell on all of them. Margo stared at her with wide eyes and started to blink violently, but spoke nothing.

_This is a death sentence... She can't..._

“She is not going anywhere” – Iorveth growled. – “She is one of us. How could you do it?!”  
“I told you. We need Nilfgaardians to trust us, this is the price” – Dáirine replied coldly.

No one spoke a word. The only sound they heard, was hooking of owls from afar. Then, Margo said slowly:  
“Crew! You must leave at once. They don't know about you, so you have an advantage. Go first North, then back to our drakkar. Ronja, take my box” – she said looking pointedly at her second in command. – “The command is yours from now.”  
“Margo!” – her crew and the Scoia'tael shouted at once.  
“No. No discussion. You have no choice, but to give me up. Don't you see? If you don't, they will know, that you are hiding something from them, that you lie. They will kill you all and it will endanger everything you worked for.”  
“So we all run” – Iorveth stated strongly.  
“Me mienne... you know, that it's too late and you are too deep in this” – Margo said looking him in the eyes. – “But she said tomorrow, yes?”  
“Yes” – Dáirine stated calmly, though everyone was looking at her with murder in their eyes.  
“So come, me mienne. We have all night” – Margo said lightly, but he didn't move.  
“Go away” – he said looking at Dáirine – “and never, ever come back.”  
“Iorveth!” – he looked at the woman, his woman, who just called him – “No. It's my last wish, the last favour I would ask of you. She will die: a lone Seidhe is a dead Seidhe, you know it. I won't allow it.”  
“I hate you” – Dáirine barked.  
“I know. This is exactly why, since today, you will live for the rest of your long life knowing, that the woman you sent for her death just spared your life. Now” – she said looking at him – “come to the riverbank. I want to feel the water” – and she started to walk to the forest.

They made love slowly and with no rush, on the beach and in the water, not speaking a word. He was trying to remember every inch of her skin, every curve of her body, the sound of her breath and her moans. His hands were shaking from time to time as he touched her. He was devastated and not ready to face tomorrow. They both knew it well.

_Ma Seren Llachar... are you going to fade so soon? And because of me? I can't... I won't..._

“Margo, I...” – he started, as they were standing, hugging closely in the water but she interrupted him whispering to his ear:  
“Hush, hush, me mienne. You will go on with your life, a long and full life, as I wish for you. You will fuck and love many, many more men and women. This... will be only a memory, a good one, but no more. You still have a future, which is yours to take, don't waste it on grieving. I will meet my ancestors and I will have nothing to be ashamed of. I won a hundred fights and I did things, which have never been done before. I loved and I was loved. This is enough for a lifetime, me mienne” – she paused and took a deep breath. – “Sometimes, just sometimes, you'll hear my moan in the wind and sometimes, you'll hear my ordering voice in the water and you will smile, cause you'll remember, that we did it. We were here, we changed things, we loved each other. We had it all. You were the one and we walked in the garden of the stars. But we must come back to reality. And... I want you to have this” – she removed her bracelet with three black pearls, handing it to him – “there are those, who still owes me a favour. Maybe... one day it may save your life, me mienne.”  
They clung to each other, almost melting in one body and one soul. If he could hide her in him, he wouldn't hesitate. But... it was just wishful thinking. There was no other way. He knew, that she was right. It was either her or his commando, even more: their cause. Dáirine's betrayal left him no choice, especially, after Margo accepted her fate so easily.

_For us... Like a true Scoia'tael, ready to give up everything. Freedom or death. But she was free and still gave it up... Oh... Margo. I cannot imagine losing you like this._

The rising sun found her in the middle of the camp, tied by her wrists and with a loop around her neck – in the Scoia'tael way. Iorveth was holding her by the rope, while the Nilfgaardians approached from the line of the forest. One of them, the officer he knew – Ferran, stated:  
“Well, well! Good job, Iorveth! It may truly be her.”  
Hating himself, he pushed her roughly to the ground and she fell on her face. When she tried to get up, the same Nilfgaardian approached her and pulled her by her hair, looking in her face:  
“Hmm... It's a long road to Cintra. We may need a stop or two on our way. Did you fuck her?” – he asked looking at Iorveth.  
“This filthy dh'oine? Are you kidding me?” – he answered with dark contempt in his voice, hiding terrible pain, which was clenching his heart unbearably.  
“I thought so. Thanks for the delivery. Va fail!” – Ferran smirked and pulled Margo up, strangling her in the process, but she never turned around nor did she make a sound.  
Iorveth didn't reply. He was watching the scene frozen and shaking violently, as the officer threw Margo on his horse like a piece of meat, got up and turned around, galloping back to the forest.  
When they disappeared from his sight, he fell to his knees and a terrible whimper escaped his mouth.

_What have I done? I..._

He hid his face behind his hands and bent.

_I lost her. I sold her... I..._

He wasn't sure how long he was like that: on the ground, with a bleeding heart, trying to catch his breath. He was alone and hated himself with everything, that he was. The whole commando was in mourning and even the wind seemed to wail in the forest one sentence:

_It is your fault._

Crimson leaves started to fell from the trees to the ground. Autumn had come.


	30. Angus the night of Saovine 1268

Andante

 

ANGUS

 

the night of Saovine 1268  
the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon  
Brugge

Iorveth looked like a man, who lost it all... and he did. His commando was destroyed three months prior, while they were moving South - to join them in the camp of the Nilfgaardian army. Angus realised at once, that he is not the man he knew before. They haven't seen each other for more than a year, it was true, but... He was still shocked, that so much could change in such a short time.  
The younger Seidhe was quiet and tense. Nothing was left from the energetic and ambitious demeanour he always had. He was thinner, than Angus remembered, with ashen skin and mate hair. He looked like a ghost of himself.  
The night was completely dark, no fire was set on the eve of Saovine and clouds were covering the sky, blocking the light of the moon and stars. Angus was sitting next to silent Iorveth and had this feeling...

_He looks as if someone was haunting him..._

He was pondering for a long time, before he decided to break the silence:  
“Iorveth, are you all right?”  
“Obviously, fraere” – the answer came in a quiet voice.  
“I know... your commando... but there is nothing you could have done...”  
“I know. There is, in general, nothing we can do. We were fools to believe otherwise.”  
“But... we're part of a great and victorious army now. Many things are going to change. We are going to achieve our goals.”  
“We lost a long time ago, fraere, we just refuse to accept that” – Iorveth replied bitterly.  
Angus observed him for a long time before he asked:  
“What happened last year, fraere?”  
“I sacrificed everything...” – he replied in a blank voice.  
“It's what we do.”  
“Yes. Only the ashes will remain.”  
“Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will light the fires for the ones we lost, but there are many still alive” – Angus said but Iorveth didn't reply.

The next evening, they all followed Iorveth to light the fires at the riverbank. No one really knew why he went there to prepare the pyres but they all followed in silence. The strong, West wind was blowing form Brokilon and the river was flowing rapidly. It was not a quiet place but maybe for the better, none of them was really in a mood for conversation.  
When the fire started to roar, Angus observed with worry as Iorveth dropped to his knees and stayed like that till the fire died out many hours later. Motionless and expressionless. He was the last to remain with the younger Seidhe, who seemingly refused to live any longer, who just existed now.  
As the fire burned out and the wind was blowing more gently, Angus heard it: a soft moan of the wind, reminding him of a female voice. Iorveth looked up. Then, he got up, looked at Angus with unseeing eyes and went back to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill Withers „Ain't No Sunshine”


	31. Isengrim Saovine 1268

ISENGRIM

 

Saovine 1268  
the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon  
Brugge

He was searching angrily for Iorveth, however, on the spot where the Vrihedd Brigade had their tents, the younger Seidhe was no where to be found. After an hour, he was close to giving up, as he saw the man he was looking for, emerging from the forest and marching into the camp. Isengrim approached him quickly and stood face-to-face with him, stating:  
“You cannot talk to general Braibant in such a manner. You know it. What is wrong with you?!”  
“What manner?” – Iorveth asked honestly surprised.  
“Disrespectful.”  
“Ah... but the dh'oine was talking, as if he had no idea, how the terrain looks like near Brenna. There are hills everywhere around it. We would be blinded. There are hundred ways in which the Nordlings would be able to surprise us” – the younger Seidhe stated calmly and paused before adding: – “You agreed with me and – as I heard – Coehoorn did, as well. We are attacking Meyena first, aren't we? Why are you so agitated?”  
“They are our allies and we serve directly under Braibant. You angered him with no good reason.”  
“Oh... so his ego was hurt?” – Iorveth was mocking openly now. – “Well, I don't really care much about those dh'oine feelings, fraere. Neither of them.”  
“What is wrong with you? You were the first to work with Nilfgaardians, you liked them, Iorveth. What changed?”  
“I got to know them and I learned, that the grass is always greener somewhere else.”  
“Either way, deal with it. Something like that cannot happen again” – Isengrim scolded him.  
“You know, fraere, times when you could scold me are long gone” – Iorveth stated and turned around to walk away.  
“Iorveth, you are like a younger brother to me, don't make me pull my rank” – the older Seidhe pleaded, but the other one didn't stop, so he continued differently: – “Officer! Stop!”  
Iorveth stopped and turned around, his demeanour was already different: his face was cold and blank when he asked:  
“Yes, colonel?”  
“You won't take part in any meetings of officers until I say otherwise. Is that understood?”  
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”  
“Iorveth! What is happening? I've never seen you like that... Talk to me, if there is anything...”  
“No. There is nothing.”  
“Iorveth... I know you for decades... Last time you were like that was when... your horse, Zephyr, passed away. But you were seventeen then... Is this about the commando?”  
“Obviously. We took the risk, which we shouldn't have taken, only in order to get here.”  
“We all knew the risk, they did, too. There was nothing you could have done...” – Isengrim said in his most calming voice.  
“I know. But it doesn't change facts” – Iorveth stated in defiance.  
Isengrim approached the younger man and put his hand on the other's shoulder, looking at him calmly. Then, he asked again:  
“Is it all?”  
“Isn't it enough?”  
“Yes. Yes, it is... Go hunting, it always worked for you. Or find someone to spent a night, it usually worked even better” – Isengrim smirked, but the other man just nodded and left.

He was looking in Iorveth's direction for a long time before he went to his tent, where Linnéa and Saoirse were already waiting for him: naked, occupied and with wide, playful grins. As he undressed slowly, with a predatory grin, his last thoughts were still whirling around the conversation with his younger friend...

_Well... At least it always works for me..._


	32. Aryaena Yule 1268

ARYAENA

 

Yule 1268  
the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon  
Brugge

She looked up in the eyes of the man, who was - right now - moving rhythmically with her, as they were chasing their pleasure. She heard of him long before, but met him only two months ago. There was something so appealing in him, that she couldn't resist and tonight - at last - she was able to take him to her tent. In a dark way he impersonated everything, that the Aen Seidhe was: freedom, loss, danger and fierce passion. Aryaena didn't know much about him, despite the fact, that he was one of the first and the youngest commanders but he lost most of his men a few months ago.  
As he undressed her, kissing her neck, breasts and stomach, there was something cold but hungry and determined in his behaviour. She found it even more arousing for the reasons unknown even to her. His touch was urgent and rushed, but she matched him in it eagerly. As he was already inside her, she quickly felt, that she is on her edge. They came together, with satisfied moans but... he never once looked at her, nor did he touch her face. Even as he rested for a moment in the small of her neck, sucking on it passionately, she knew, that someone else was on his mind.  
Only afterwards, as he slid out of her, she met his impossibly green eyes - endless as wilderness - and she saw it: they were cold and blank. He smiled at her gently, but it was a fake smile, never reaching those incredibly sorrowful eyes.

They were lying together still naked, next to each other, but barely touching. After a long silence, she stated slowly:  
“I lost the man I hoped to spend the rest of my life with two years ago. I understand.”  
“What?” – he asked and lifted his upper body to look at her.  
“You heard me.”  
“I... why would you say that?”  
“I see you, Iorveth” – as she said that, he laid flat on his back and looked up at the tent's celling.  
“It is true, what they say about you, Aryaena: you are incredibly observant and compassionate...” – he replied with sadness.  
“You remembered my name... I wouldn't think so” – she replied looking at the celling, as well.  
“I learned my lesson. The hardest possible way.”  
“What did you do?” – she asked, turning to her side and looking at him intently.  
“How...?” – he trialed off but turned to face her, too. – “You surprise me more and more. Guess, then, if you wish.”  
“You sacrificed her, didn't you?” – she observed his features tensing and his eye-lids falling shut.  
“I sold her...” – he whispered.  
“Ah... there is always a price, if you want to achieve your goals: the greater they are the higher is the price” – after she finished, he opened his eyes again and asked:  
“Why did you invite me here?”  
“I can't really say... En'ca minne... it's a curious thing. Sometimes, the only thing that keeps us going...” – she replied taking his length in her hands.  
At first, he was confused and surprised at her action, but he let go. As he was ready, she pushed him gently to his back and straddled him, facing his feet. She didn't expect him to sit up and hug her gently, neither did she anticipate his delicate kisses on her neck and back. But it was nice, all-consuming sensation, allowing her to forget, even if just for this night.


	33. Ciaran Yule 1268

CIARAN

 

Yule 1268  
the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon  
Brugge

It was a stressful experience to meet his new commanding officer for the first time. He joined the Scoia'tael a short while ago and was still green as grass, he knew it well. And now, he was a member of the Vrihedd Brigade. He approached the centre of their part of the camp to see ten experienced commanders sitting by the fire and talking merrily: all, but one. The Seidhe was only a few years older than him, but looked as if the burden of the whole world was on his shoulders. He was sitting silent and grim, looking absent-mindedly at the fire in front of him. His raven-black hair was falling in a studious mess and moving lightly in the wind.  
As Ciaran approached, one of the commanders with light brown hair fastened in a ponytail, asked in a pleasant voice:  
“Is there anything we can do for you, boy?”  
“My name is Ciaran aep Easnillien, I am looking for Iorveth...” – he answered in a shaking voice, overwhelmed by the looks the older Seidhe were giving him.  
“And why would you look for him?” – the Seidhe with raven-black hair asked in a bored voice.  
“I'm to report to him” – Ciaran answered again, almost panicking.  
“Ah... Have you ever held a sword before, boy?” – the man continued, not even sparing him a glance.  
“Well... not much, but I can shoot.”  
“Every Seidhe can shoot. But you are going into a battle” – and then, the commander turned around and met his eyes. Ciaran almost gasped seeing these dark green orbs looking intently at him. – “Come, we will spar. I see, that, at least, you already have a sword” – the man continued standing up and picking up his own sword.

He followed Iorveth to the clearing outside the camp. There, the older Seidhe turned around and ordered:  
“Position!”  
Ciaran obeyed without hesitation.  
“Good. Now, let's fight” – the officer said and they started to spar.  
“Left! Left! Don't look at my weapon, look me in the eyes. My arm may deceive you, but my eyes cannot, they react to my thoughts on their own. Better!” – Iorveth was giving him commands like that for the whole time and Ciaran obeyed.

They spent probably some hours sparring without a break until the sun began to set. He was observing in owe and adoration experienced movements of the man he was training with. He had never seen someone moving like that before. Ciaran realised quickly, that he is already fascinated with this grim and determined Seidhe, but kept his face under control. In the end, Iorveth stated:  
“You are a good swordsman, Ciaran. With some training, you may become an excellent one.”  
“Commander...” – the younger Seidhe started, but trailed off.  
“Yes?”  
“You trained in the Blue Mountains, didn't you?”  
“Yes.”  
“I was fighting at Ciaran's aep Dearbh side for a while, but... you fight differently.”  
“You are observant, aren't you?” – Iorveth asked with a sad smile. – “I may have sparred more than once with pirates. Probably the best warriors I know.”  
“Pirates? But... How?”  
“Accidentally” – when the commander said that, his grim features changed. Now he looked soft and warm, welcoming as he continued: – “It is a long story, Ciaran...”  
“I will gladly hear it” – the younger Seidhe replied and took a step closer to the other man, now standing not even a meter from him.  
“Your eyes... they are brown, but almost mahogany... incredible” – Iorveth whispered, putting his left hand on Ciaran's cheek, what made him lean to the touch instantly, with a small smile. – “Not tonight” – the commander continued and walked away, leaving him breathless.

As Iorveth left, Ciaran sat down and closed his eyes. He barely knew this man, but felt that he would never forget the officer and the terrible sorrow, which seemed to follow him everywhere he went.


	34. Mousesack Lammas 1268

Adagio

 

MOUSESACK

 

Lammas 1268  
Harviken  
Faroe

The jarl's family and men were gathered in the main hall of the jarl's house. The conditions of the Peace of Cintra were read out loud by the jarl's son. Skelliger didn't take part in the fights on the land, but were raiding Nilfgaard restlessly and blocked effectively supply routes. Especially clan Dimun under the command of Carnelian was out there for Nilfgaardian blood and provisions. So they all considered the victory of the Northern Realms as their own, too. Provision after provision caused enthusiastic reactions of the crowd gathered in the hall. All, but the last one. Halbjorn was just reading at loud in a strong voice:

_Article 25th The colonel and all officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, war criminals, are to be surrendered to the kings and queen of the Northern Realms immediately._

Dead silence fell on the crowd gathered in the hall in Harviken. Skelliger couldn't even imagine, that the Emperor would do something like that. It was Carnelian, who broke the silence asking in shock:  
“They are giving them up? Sending them to die?”  
“It is wrong” – Ragnvaldr supported her.  
“We have no love for elves, but... this is vile. They will be executed” – Solveig added.  
The mood in the hall fell and the first toast was a silent one: for the men led to death.

Shorty after, Carnelian called him to her parents' bedroom. He followed curiously and remembered the last time he was part of such a conspiracy.

 

 _Velen 1266_  
_grove_  
_near the Temple of Melitele_  
_Ellander_

 _On the early morning, he was sitting by the great oak on Ard Skellig, meditating, when he felt the xenovox vibrating and heard the voice calling his name:_  
_“Mousesack! Mousesack!”_  
_He was surprised to hear Ronja's voice, but replied:_  
_“Ronja? What is it?”_  
_“Do you have some potion to cause memory loss?”_  
_“Temporarily? You have one too: Mahakaman spirit.”_  
_“You are a genius! Meet us in Ellander, in a grove close to the Temple of Melitele, in two hours.”_  
_“I'll be there” – he replied and went to gather his travelling attire before opening the first portal._

 _When he came to the grove, he saw Carrie sitting by the tree, encircled by her man. As he approached, all looked at him._  
_“Carnelian... What happened?” – he asked the young woman._  
_“I was arrested by Nilfgaardian patrol, but they saved me” – she replied looking with gratitude at her crew._  
_“Why did you need something for memory loss?”_  
_“We didn't want Nilfgaardians to know how far we venture into the land” – Carrie replied._  
_“Right. Why did you call me here, then?” – Mousesack asked looking at Ronja._  
_“We didn't know if our plan would work, but it did and Carrie is fine, so we are good...” – Ronja trailed off._

_He was observing the whole crew and their captain carefully, but they had perfectly innocent faces. Still, he knew: they were hiding something._

 

The crack of the door brought him back from his memories and as he entered the bedroom, he saw jarl Holger, Kerstin, Halbjorn, Vigdis and Muriel. Carnelian closed the door behind them and stated at once:  
“I'm not leaving them, father. They are not going to die like that on my watch.”  
The room fell silent. They knew about whom Carrie is talking, but still... what she suggested was... beyond their imagination. Mousesack heard Holger's voice:  
“When you came back in 1264 we all knew, that something has changed. Moreover, you had information about Scoia'tael, which seemed to be impossible to gather. Two years later, you came broken-hearted, even more than when you and Svanrige broke up. You came bearing news, which more than probably, were one of the reasons behind the recent victory. But... if you want us to understand and support you, we need to hear more.”  
“I... yes. But it doesn't change the simple fact, that it's wrong. They all don't deserve this fate” – Carrie said in a strong voice, avoiding to say anything more than they already suspected. – “I need five drakkars, that's all.”  
“And if you fail? If the Nordlings discover you? What then?” – her father continued.  
“I will pretend to be a little, stupid girl, who is simply raiding the North” – she replied.  
“And if you succeed? All Scoia'tael will be hunted. How many, you think, we can shelter on our small Faroe?” – Kerstin asked in a concerned voice.  
“The king still owes me a favour” – Carnelian said in a grim voice. – “I will call it, if necessary.”  
“Carrie... it's a dangerous game you want to play” – Kerstin stated. – “You want to ask Bran to help you to help your lover, while Svanrige still waits for your answer. How do you want to solve this conundrum?”  
“I had a conversation with Svanrige five months ago, while we were attacking Nilfgaardian fleet. He has no illusions as to my answer anymore.”  
“Did you refuse to marry the most possible candidate for the next king of Skellige?” – Holger Blackhand asked quietly.  
“I did.”  
“For an elf?” – he continued in a lauder and irritated voice.  
“No, father. For myself. I've never been made for this life. I won't be the king's wife. I'm not planning to be anybody's wife. I am Margaret of the clan Dimun and it won't change” – the young woman stated strongly.  
“My daughter...” – Holger started – “I am proud of both: you and your brother and I respect your decision but... don't be alone forever. It's a terrible fate, my dear.”

Mousesack looked at Carnelian in an unspeakable owe. Looking at her determined, ambitious and cold face, he knew, that the female pirate would yet amaze them all even more than she already did.


	35. Ronja Saovine 1269

RONJA

 

Saovine 1269  
the Pontar  
near White Bridge  
Temeria

They were sailing in total silence up the Pontar river in the darkness of the new moon. To make room for the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade and not to need more men, than their crew, they were sailing in pairs on five commandeered ships. No one paid any attention to five small Temerian units sailing upstream. It was exhausting, but... They all refused to just sit and watch what will happen to the Seidhe they've known. The plan was to take over the prisoners as close to the river as possible and then, to sail back to the Great Sea, to make a stop at the Fiddler's Green Bay in Kerack to regroup, possibly change boats and decide what to do next.  
The ships were landed a few miles from the bridge in White Bridge and they waited. Already in Rinde, they were lucky to capture and interrogate Redanian patrol. Their commanding officer after some... encouragement, shared with the Skelliger, that in a few days they were to watch over the bridge to make sure, that no one would try to take over the prisoners... well... They wouldn't, obviously, their bodies were probably already eaten by the fish.  
The crossing was to take place at dawn. So now, they waited patiently in ships, which they've commandeered back on the Temerian waters.  
The sun was rising slowly as they sailed even closer to the bridge. Then, they saw them – a sad procession of some thirty Seidhe and maybe fifty-five soldiers guarding them. The procession stopped before the bridge, just as Skelliger landed a dozen meters from it. The pirates got ashore and moved in the direction of the Aen Seidhe and their guards. Still, no one reacted, as they saw humans dressed as merchants approaching them. It changed much too late, when pirates shoot from the crossbows in a blink of an eye.  
Ronja and Viggo got to prisoners, while the rest was fighting in a close-combat. Once freed of the shackles, the prisoners ran to the swords left by fallen guards. In maybe ten minutes the fight was over and they were all getting on the ships.  
The sail down the Pontar was swift, Margo ordered from time to time:  
“Trim the sails! Faster!”  
At midday, they were passing the Free City of Novigrad and sailed to the Great Sea. From there, they sailed South to their favourite Fiddler's Green Bay in Kerack. They journeyed through the night and got ashore the next morning. There was no sight of any pursuit.

_They haven't even realised what had happened yet... Carrie is a genius._


	36. Coinneach Saovine 1269

COINNEACH

 

Saovine 1269  
Fiddler's Green Bay  
South from Kerack  
Kerack

On the sea, most of the Aen Seidhe got sea-sick, obviously. They were not used to sailing and small Temerian ships were shallow and swift, which was only adding to the feeling of rocking. He, surprisingly, didn't feel bad at all. To the contrary: he enjoyed it, especially the feeling of freedom the sea gave. The pirates didn't speak much, they were busy with the boat and were evading any questions Coinneach tried to pose, but for one:  
“Where are we heading?” – he asked.  
“Fiddler's Green Bay, South from Kerack” – the woman with short black hair replied.

Once ashore, they were waiting for the last ship, which - as he was informed by a strong man with short, brown hair and blue eyes - was to make sure, that they were not followed. The last boat was under the command of the pirates' captain. As the boat neared the beach, he saw a young woman with short, red and curly hair jumping to the shallow water as the last. She was approaching them in steady, but slow pace.  
She levelled with Ciaran aep Dearbh and asked him something. He pointed at Coinneach and she nodded, heading in the pointed direction. Coinneach stood up and observed the woman:  
“Commander, my name is captain Carnelian. It is a pleasure to make your acquittance” – she extended her hand, which he shook saying:  
“Coinneach Da Réo, as you know. The pleasure is all mine. You saved us.”  
“Well, we – Skelliger – have our own code of honour, which definitely doesn't include executing foes in the manner, which was awaiting you in Drakenborg. I would kill you on the battlefield, that is true, but not like that...”  
“I shall probably consider myself lucky then, that you fought mostly at the Great Sea and on Yaruga” – Carnelian smiled gently at his response and replied:  
“I shall consider myself lucky, as well. The Vrihedd Brigade was the only determined unit in the whole Nilfgaardian Army. Meeting you and your men meant death, I'm no fool. I know that” – she paused before stating: – “I heard, that Isengrim Faoiltiarna was taken away already in Dillingen.”  
“Yes” – Coinneach said with sadness. – “He was probably executed shortly after, along with Angus Bri Cri and Riordain.”  
“I see... and others?”  
“Iorveth and Tighearnach died at Brenna. We don't know what happened to Noirin...” – the captain's face tensed only for a split of a second, before she swallowed and stated calmly:  
“And your men, commander? What with the warriors from the Vrihedd and the rest of Scoia'tael?”  
“Some were allowed to stay in Nilfgaard, but... I suspect, that most of them will come back to the North to continue fighting” – he answered slowly.  
“They are banned from Dol Blathanna. Did you hear that?”  
“Yes.”  
“They will be hunted and executed” – she stated sternly.  
“It's the only way” – Coinneach said with resignation.  
“No, it's not. I can offer you a shelter.”  
“What?”  
“I told you, that my name is Carnelian, but... it's a nickname. My full name is Margaret Laura from the clan Dimun. I can offer you shelter on Faroe, but not sovereignty. You will need to recognise my father's rule and the king, still, we are not Nordlings from the Continent. We judge men by their deeds, not by their status or race. I'm not promising you a paradise... but I'm offering you a fresh start.”

To say, that he was in a shock, would be an understatement of the year. He almost gaped at this young woman, standing in front of him and asked in a disbelieving whisper:  
“Why? Why would Skelliger do it?”  
“We understand fight and freedom. We understand living and dying by one's own rules as well as you do. You are great warriors, Coinneach, and this is what we understand the best. One day... we may ask you to return this favour. One day, we may need to fight arm-to-arm, but till this day comes - you'll have a chance for a better life, than you could dream of here. But most importantly - once the pledge would be made - you'll be one of us and we never, ever betray our people. Holger Blackhand is not Emhyr or...”  
“Enid...” – Coinneach finished for her with anger. – “If I accept your offer, will you allow us to travel through the Realms to gather the commandos?”  
“No” – upon hearing her reply he narrowed his eyes with surprise, but she grinned and continued: – “We'll travel with you. We'll divide into five groups and we'll cover as much land as we can, as soon as we can. But now, we all need sleep, we were sailing for two days without a rest, I'm fading as I stand” – she finished with a wide grin.  
“Thank you, luned” – he stated and almost dropped to his knees.

As they stood and conversed, the wind stopped blowing at all and was replaced by small drops of rain falling slowly, but inevitably to the ground.


	37. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.

THE SKELLIGER TALES

 

Part II

 

RAIN

 

_Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir,_  
_The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free;_  
_Much do I know, and more can see_  
_Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight._

~ Poetic Edda Völuspá


	38. Sigismunt Imbaek 1269

Largo

 

SIGISMUNT

 

Imbaek 1269  
Elskerdeg Pass  
the Fiery Mountains

On the cold winter morning, Sigi was the second to wake up in their small camp. Wolf Isen, as he introduced himself, was keeping the watch. Sigi looked pensively at the open horizon in the West. Something ended for sure, but there are many things, which are yet to begin.

_The beginning of the beautiful friendship... Indeed... I shall tell him, who knows? Maybe one day I will need the Scoia'tael? And someone, who owes me a favour..._

He approached the elf and sat down next to him. The Seidhe turned and stated:  
„Ceád'mil. It's freezing today.”  
„Yeah...” – Sigi replied. – „Boreas is asleep and we don't have much time, so listen carefully” – he started and saw the surprise on the other man's scarred face. – „Officers of your Vrihedd escaped their fate.”  
„What?! How?!” – the elf was in a deep shock right now, staring at him with wide eyes.  
„No one knows. The only traces, which were found, led to the Pontar. But the riverbank was searched and double-checked. They disappeared into thin air” – Sigi stated pensively. – „Some say, that the only answer is: boats, but...”  
„We don't sail” – Wolf/Isengrim stated sternly.  
„Exactly. No Nilfgaardian or any other suspicious boat was seen. Only merchants and fishermen were sailing the Pontar that day. Whoever did it is a true genius.”  
„So who was executed at the Ravine?”  
„No one. The bodies of the prisoners, who died in Drakenborg, were burned and cast there. It was a cover-up made by Redanians and Temerians, who were ashamed of their failure.”  
„Genius, as well.”  
„Thank you” – Sigismunt smirked.  
„No, I shall thank you. I must head back” – Wolf/Isengrim stated.  
„Just... remember, who brought you the news” – the human smiled mysteriously.  
„If you need anything, Dijkstra, find me – I pay my debts.”  
„I know and I won't forget. One day... I may need your and your men' assistance.”  
„And you will receive it” – Isengrim Faoiltiarna stated and started to pack.  
„It was an honour, commander” – Sigismunt Dijkstra stated as the elf was ready to head back.  
„Likewise, my friend” – Isengrim shook his hand and turned around.

As the Seidhe was gathering his belongings Sigismut pondered on the escape of the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. He was looking for answers for a long time, but found none. No one had a clue how and where to they disappeared. He knew, that they couldn't just dissolve into the thin air, but it definitely looked like that. He realised quite early, that there is someone else at play, someone, who caused all of this trouble. But, this realisation didn't help him at all. Someone outsmarted them all and they knew nothing about him.  
This event was one of the reasons, why he needed to run. Many people were accusing him and his men of this failure. He, although reluctantly, agreed with them. Nothing indicated, that anyone will have the courage or resources to stop this execution. There were so many questions, which he left unanswered.

_Well... for now, it's not my problem._

The sky was clear in the morning, but as he observed the elf walking away at a quick pace a drizzle started, which soon turned into snow.


	39. Blathnaid Birke 1269

BLÁTHNAID

 

Birke 1269  
forest near Riedbrune  
Temeria

The spring came and nature was waking up happily. Already at down, loud singing of birds woke her up. Probably for the best, she still had a lot to do. They found a track last night, someone was hunting them. The question was: who? She decided to scout alone, her commando was still quite small and she didn't want to risk too much.  
As she ventured deeper into the forest she heard footsteps and then a whistle.

_Scoia'tael whistle... we are not alone!_

She quickly whistled back. Soon, a male Seidhe with dark brown hair and ebony eyes emerged from behind the tree and froze. She was looking at him for a long time with wide eyes, but then, she exclaimed:  
„Isengrim! You are alive!”  
„Bláthnaid. You have a small commando here, don't you?”  
„Yes. Yes, I do” – she said proudly. – „But how?” – she asked hugging him closely.  
„It's a long story. I escaped, miraculously...”  
„Gods! So not all is lost... there is still a reason to fight...”  
„There is always a reason to fight” – he replied with a smile.  
„You know, what I meant... after the news from Dol Blathanna... I mean... we were sold and tossed like the waste.”  
„I know, saere...” – he paused before asking: – „I'm looking for all commandos, have you heard about anyone else?”  
„We got news, that a commando is moving West by the Northern riverbank of the Yaruga...” – Bláthnaid stated.  
„Who leads them?”  
„No one knows. Will you stay for the night?”  
„No. I'll be on my way. Va fail! And good luck, saere.”  
„Va fail, fraere.”

She was looking at him as he was walking away from her.

_The miracle... the hope... maybe we are not lost yet..._

She never lost hope or determination in fighting for their cause. It wasn't it. Still... it became harder and harder to believe in a happy ending. After they got news about their commanders... The mood became depressing. She remembered, that at the beginning they were fighting for something: dignity, identity, freedom. Then, they were fighting against dh'oine. Lastly, they only wanted to die standing up, not on their knees. But... maybe there is a life to live beyond that?  
The rain was pouring down as Isengrim began his journey North and Bláthnaid was looking in the direction he disappeared for a long time. Maybe there was a chance to make a difference again in the future. She walked back to her commando with lighter heart. At last there is some good news to share.


	40. Halmicar Birke 1269

HAMILCAR

 

Birke 1269  
the Hanging Tree Inn  
the crossroads near Kagen  
Sodden

As the spring came, the days were getting longer gradually. He was travelling home, at last, through the occupied territory of Sodden. His comrades were to wait for him in Kagen. For a while, he considered to ride through the night to get to the city in the morning, but he was tired. Terribly tired. So, he decided to spend a night in the Hanging Tree Inn. The Inn didn't have the best reputation, that was for sure, but under Nilfgaardian rule, it was safe as the rest of the roads in the Empire.  
At midnight, he just finished his beer and decided to go outside to piss. The night was quite warm as for the early spring, so he took his time outside. Just as he finished and started to walk back in, he saw a figure leaned leisurely on the nearest tree. A figure, which made his blood froze.

_Isengrim Faoiltiarna... a ghost... the Seidhe is haunting me..._

Hamilcar froze, as the man started to approach him at a steady pace. Even as he stood next to him, the Nilfgaardian officer still couldn't move. The Seidhe grabbed his neck and put a dagger to his back, at the level of his liver, before he spoke slowly:  
„Ceád'mil, Hamilcar. Long time not seen... are you surprised?”  
„You are dead.”  
„Well... it's a matter of perspective, I believe. Now, come with me... nice and slowly. We are old friends, aren't we?”  
„I...”  
„Chop-chop.”  
He didn't know, why he walked at the Seidhe's side into the East, in the direction of a lonely tree: the Hanged Men Tree. As they moved, he was in a trance but then, Isengrim stopped just a meter from the tree and punched him in the stomach. Hard. So hard, that he fell. Then, in a blink of an eye, he was tied up on the ground.  
This was when he started to fight.

_It isn't happening..._

„What are you?” – he shouted to the Seidhe.  
„Vendetta.”  
„How is it possible?”  
„Do you know what is happening by this very tree almost every year?” – Isengrim wasn't listening to him any longer. – „Dearg Ruadhri - the Red Riders - make the selection here. Who will die on the spot and who will go with them, but no one knows where... Still, the Red Riders never take Aen Seidhe... they are here for dh'oine blood. No one knows (or talks about it) who they are. But, for us, they are the red flame of hope for revenge on your race. We dream, that one day they'll come for all of you, dh'oine... That one day, the Gate of the Worlds will open again, allowing that to happen. That we'll be able to stand by their side to relish the extinction of your race. You know how Skelliger call it? Ragh nar Roog... the end of the world and gods... I, for one, will enjoy it immensely, as will my brothers and sisters” – the Seidhe looked down at him with a cold expression. – “But you won't live long enough to see that beautiful day, my friend. You will die tonight.”  
“Isengrim! We couldn't do anything! We couldn't know!”  
But his screams were quickly muffled by a gag.  
“Such a pity... I don't have a rope long enough... we must do it the old fashion way.”

He observed with horror, as Isengrim approached him and knelt in front of him. Then, he looked at this terribly scarred face, which displayed no mercy. To the contrary: the Seidhe was smirking at him. After a pause, in which the Seidhe was enjoying the fearful look on his face, two strong hands caught both sides of his head...


	41. Coinneach Blathe 1269

Lento

 

COINNEACH

 

Blathe 1269  
Caed Dhu  
Temeria

It was a cloudless night and the blood moon was perfectly visible on the sky. The view was spectacular. They all cherished it for a long time, sitting in the old druid circle of Caed Dhu.

_Old places and old memories. The druids left this place to find peace in Caed Myrkvid. Our world is getting smaller for all, who do not see it like dh'oine... They took it all and forced us into shadows, deeper into woods and mountains... and we allowed them. Dh'oine need the world to shrink to their size: small men need the world to be theirs, to be taken by force, to be tamed. And what cannot be tamed must be eradicated from its surface. Exterminated for good... I am bitter, but there is not much left in us, but for bitterness and revenge._

Past midnight most of them went to sleep, but Coinneach volunteered to keep watch tonight to relish the view on the night's sky a little bit longer. Maybe an hour passed since the rest fell asleep, as he heard a noise from the camp:  
“Ah!” – Carrie woke up with a scream. He approached her, saying in a calming voice and reaching for her with his hand:  
“Carrie...”  
“Get away from me! You are not going to take me!” – she screamed in a terrified voice and reached for the dagger, hidden beneath her blanket.  
She moved with unseeing eyes and almost cut him, but then she stopped just before his neck and looked in shock:  
“Neach... I...”  
“It was a bad dream, it's fine.”  
“He looks somehow like you...” – she whispered in fear.  
“Whom?” – he inquired.  
“No one. It was just a dream...” – she stated in her normal voice and averted her gaze.  
“Go back to sleep” – he tried to calm her down again.

He sat next to her and waited for her breathing to calm down.

_What did you mean? Who is haunting your dreams, luned?_

The next day in the morning, he approached her slowly and sat next to her by the fire. They were alone, as he started:  
“Carrie... do you remember, what happened last night?”  
“I... no” – she looked at him confused.  
“Since when do you have nightmares?”  
“We all have them, Neach...”  
“That is true. But I've seen, what they can do to a person and others...” – he stated slowly, looking ahead.  
“What do you mean?”  
“One night, more than four years ago, I woke up in the middle of the night. For a long time I didn't know why, but then I heard muffled screams. I ran in their direction and there I found Bláthnaid and Flaithri in their tent. They were a couple for many years, even before they joined us. But it didn't change, what happened. He was strangling her almost to death with completely unseeing eyes. He didn't wake up until I dragged him from her and punched him in the face. Then, he was horrified as we all were. As he calmed down, he told me what he dreamt of. This caused him to attack her, even if he would never do it consciously” – he finished with a sigh.  
“Neach I... am fine, truly.”  
“No, you are not. You almost stabbed me yesterday, luned.”  
“What?”  
“And I know, that you are not sleeping well. Stop pretending. We all do it for our men, I know. We pretend, that we are unbreakable. But it's not true.”  
“And you? Aren't you unbreakable?”  
“I was led to my death not long ago. No one survives something like that with ease.”  
“You are safe now.”

As he heard her reply he realised, that she wouldn't talk about herself. He understood it well: they've all done the same and still would. Admitting to a weakness was impossible for a commander and she was just the same. He also knew, what she didn't want to hear: pity. He remembered how long it took Flaithri to talk about his fears, his nightmares, his shame. But he wasn't a commander. Coinneach could persuade him to speak, even by pulling his rank.  
But the Scoia'tael commanders, even only among themselves, never spoke about their feelings. Never spoke about fear, depression, guilt, loss. They put on the masks even around each other. They knew, that there was probably no other way. Now, looking at Carrie, he resented this more than ever. Maybe, because she was so incredibly young? Or maybe, because she was no Seidhe and her feelings, even if unspoken, were visible in her soft features?  
Either way, he gave up and only stated:  
“If you change your mind, I'm here for you, luned.”  
“Thank you, Neach” – she answered, but didn't look at him.

They sat in silence for a long time, before both headed to their duties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Austin Wintory „Underground”


	42. Isengrim the night of Midaëte 1269

ISENGRIM

 

the night of Midaëte 1269  
Caed Dhu  
Temeria

The ancient forest should have been abandoned, but he could feel the presence. Someone was truly hiding in here. The night was warm and moist as he was walking deeper into the forest, approaching the spot, were druids' circle once stood. Then, he saw a movement in front of him, so he neared the old oak and waited.  
To his surprise, suddenly, he felt a cold blade on his neck and heard cold as ice female voice, coming from behind him:  
“What is it? A Squirrel, caught off guard...?” – the woman asked mockingly. – “Don't move. I have very little patience.”  
So he didn't. She approached him closer and ordered:  
“Now, turn around, slowly, with your hands high so I can see both of them.”  
He didn't have much choice, so he did as he was told. When he faced the woman, he stared at her pointedly. She had medium-cut, red, curly hair and pale complexion. On her left cheek, there was a long scar. But it was her eyes, what caused him to stare: flint-grey, now narrowed, but adorned with long, pitch-black eyelashes.

_Like the sky in the summer storm. Amazing._

She was looking at him pointedly, too, before she called in a strong, but polite voice:  
“Coinneach! Come here!”  
As he heard this name, he held his breath. A moment later, he heard footsteps from behind him, but dared not to move, as her blade was still on his neck.  
“Neach, is it him?” – the woman asked in disbelieve.  
“Is!” – the voice of his friend was coming from a very short distance now. – “Is it really you?”  
The blade has already been sheathed and the woman took a step back from him. As he saw Coinneach, they hugged each other brotherly. Isengrim whispered:  
“Fraere! I didn't dare to truly believe...”  
“How? Isengrim! You were taken!” – Neach replied with a question of his own.  
“I escaped.”  
“And Angus? Riordain?”  
“No. I... they were already dead” – he said with pain in his voice.  
“Understood” – the other Seidhe answered grievously, but then separated from him and smiled gently. – “It is so good to see you.”  
“You too. How did you escape?” – he asked at once with curiosity in his voice.  
“We didn't. We had help” – Neach stated and looked at the woman, who found him – “may I introduce: Carnelian. Carrie, this is Isengrim Faoiltiarna.”  
“I guessed, fraere” – she replied with a smile. – “It is an honour, commander.”  
“Carnelian... as in the Carnelian? The leader of Skelliger during the war?”  
“The same” – Carrie answered with a smirk.  
“But why? Declan Winterbach told us, that you almost destroyed the Nilfgaardian fleet. We heard, that you fought Nilfgaardians without break or mercy. And now you are doing... what?”  
“Talk first to Neach, then find me” – she evaded his question and passed him, walking in the direction, where he suspected the camp was located.  
“Neach?!” – he turned back to his friend.  
“She is like that” – the other Seidhe answered with a wide smile. – “Giving orders is her first nature and she is in charge here. We owe them everything, Is. But... you'll get used to her, she is always polite and respectful, just... let her order around” – he added chuckling.  
Isengrim raised his eyebrows and stared at his older friend. Then, he listened to the most shocking story he had heard in years, probably in his entire life.

As he walked into the camp, he felt like home at once: it looked like typical Scoia'tael camp, but for the presence of two dh'oine. Carrie was lying leisurely on the blanket, looking up in the sky. The other, stout man with blond hair, was talking to Ciaran aep Dearbh. The moment his men saw him, they stood up and greeted him enthusiastically. Ciaran came last and introduced the dh'oine:  
“Isengrim, this is Torborg of the clan Dimun, Skelliger pirate and a cheater.”  
“Hey! I won this card fair and square, Squirrel!” – the man exclaimed indignantly, but smiled nonetheless.  
“All right, all right. Not a cheater, then. But still a pirate” – Ciaran smiled fondly at the man and chuckled.

_They are friends. Close friends._

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Torborg” – Isengrim stated politely and shook the man's hand.  
“It is an honour, commander. The captain is waiting for you” – the man added and smiled, motioning his head in her direction.

The captain didn't look as if she was waiting for anyone, but he approached her and stood next to her blanket, in some distance, before he spoke:  
“Coinneach told me the story. Thank you for what you've done.”  
“It was a pleasure” – she replied looking up at him from her lying position.  
Now he had a chance to have a better look: she was in light, leather trousers and a linen shirt. Her clothing was loose, but still revealing ripe breasts and full hips. He smirked to his thoughts, sat beside her and stated:  
“He told me, that it was the Skelliger honour, what motivated you.”  
“It's partially true” – she smirked before continuing – “but mostly, it was ambition. I wanted to know, if I can do it. And, as a pirate, if I want something - I take it” – she looked back at the sky.  
“So... are we taken by you?” – he asked in a playful voice.  
“Well...” – she looked him in the eyes again, smiling – “you are certainly not. But as to your men, well... Still, I don't hear them complaining too much and they are free to go as they please. However, they don't seem to want to” – she answered grinning.  
“If you did it just out of ambition, I'm inclined to believe, that you are crazy” – he said chuckling.  
“I may be... but Skelliger love it. This is why they follow me” – she confirmed his suspicions with a mischievous smile.

_This smile... so daring, so full of life... Anyone would follow her, now I see... But her eyes never changed, they are still cold and determined like iron. Fascinating little thing, without a doubt..._

“Don't ponder too much, commander. We both know, that you are safe with us. Now, go to sleep. We plan to leave first thing tomorrow” – she said looking again in the night sky.  
“Where?”  
“To Brokilon, but on our way, we'll search through a few other locations. I promised Coinneach to meet with every commando we'll be able to find.”  
“All right” – he replied and looked at her pensively, before saying: – “Good night, captain.”  
“Carrie, call me Carrie.”  
“Only, if you call me Is” – he replied warmly.

She stared at him for a while, but then chuckled lightly and nodded, saying:  
“Night, Is...”

He walked away, but... her smiling face never left his mind.


	43. Vendela Lammas 1269

VENDELA

 

Lammas 1269  
Brokilon

It was a beautiful summer day, but around midday, as they neared the ancient forest, it started to rain. The drops of water were warm, feeling nice and tickling her face. On the outskirts of Brokilon, they encountered Carrie and Torborg with Scoia'tael they were travelling with. The Aen Seidhe, who were with Vendela and Leif, exclaimed enthusiastic greetings when they noticed their colonel, the most famous commander, Isengrim Faoiltiarna. She observed the Seidhe with curiosity. His long, dark brown hair was falling graciously in delicate waves. The incredibly dark, ebony eyes were adored by surprisingly long eyelashes, but his features were strong and proud. The famous scar ran from his forehead, left eyebrow and eye, down his nose and right cheek. He must have been incredibly beautiful before. Still, even the scar couldn't take away from him his handsome features. To the contrary: the scar made him look dangerous, almost predatory and experienced... even more attractive.  
As he shook her hand, his calm and demanding demeanour caused her to shiver, but her handshake was steady. When they ventured deeper into the forest, she observed with growing curiosity his interactions with Carrie. He caught up with her as soon as they started to march and never left her side. They looked like close friends, but... he was looking at her intently, warmly, with interest. She, on the other hand, seemed to be totally oblivious to it. As Vendela approached them, she heard Carrie speaking:  
“Fraere, would you whistle to the dryads? I hate this feeling of being watched.”  
“Obviously” – he said laughing, but whistled at once.

_Fraere... so you are not ready to move on, yet... The hope dies the last, they say. Maybe you are right? The fact, that Isengrim is alive is a miracle, but... it is different. No one saw, what happened to Isengrim in Dillingen. The Seidhe on your mind, however... we heard the story of how he died... They saw him. If he was alive, they wouldn't leave him behind._

They emerged to the vast clearing, where many figures were already waiting for them. Vendela first heard and then saw: Toruviel running in Carrie's direction, calling:  
“Sor'ca!”  
“Saere!”  
They hugged each other closely and were whispering to each other for a while, until Yeavinn came with a wide grin to hug Carrie, too. They were close, as she approached with Isengrim at her side, who greeted both Seidhe:  
“Toru and Yaevinn! Such a pleasant surprise.”  
“Isengrim!” – they both exclaimed.  
“I see, that you know each other” – Isengrim stated looking at them and then, at Carrie.  
“She saved our lives some years ago. But we haven't seen each other for many years” – Toruviel replied slowly, looking at the captain intently.

_She is avoiding the subject... why?_

But Vendela didn't have much time to think, as from the line of the forest emerged the Silver Lady, Eithné. Carrie went in her direction and bowed low, respectfully dropping on one knee:  
“Lady Eithné, thank you for your hospitality.”  
“Carnelian, rise. You are the honoured guest here” – the Seidhe with long, silver hair stated welcomingly. – “You saved our brothers and sisters when no one cared or could. What can I do for you in return, luned?”  
“I want to look into the waters of the Brook” – Carrie stated strongly, but politely.  
“Muirewedd, you may not like what you'll see, but... what should be shall be” – the Lady stated, taking Carrie's hand and walking away with her.

As the dusk came, it was raining heavier and heavier. Vendela was just sitting with Toruviel as Carrie approached them quietly.  
“Margo...” – Toru started.  
“Do you have any news? Iorveth?” – she asked hopefully.  
“No, sor'ca. He is gone” – the Seidhe stated in a grievous voice.  
“Why were you so cryptic around Isengrim?” – the captain continued.  
“He doesn't know about...”  
“Us... I realised it... You want to tell me, that he never told anyone?”  
“He didn't. I don't know why, Margo” – Toruviel replied slowly in a quiet voice.  
“Either he was ashamed or I was a fool. Maybe the Nilfgaardians...” – Carrie trailed off.  
“No!” – Toru interrupted her. – “He was devastated. We all were. He...”  
“No, Toru” – the captain cut h er short– “don't say it. It doesn't matter anymore, either way. If he hadn't said anything we shouldn't, as well.”  
“I agree” – the Seidhe replied in a heavy voice. – “But Margo...”  
“Carrie. Call me Carrie, as most people call me now.”  
“You are right, we must move forward” – Toruviel stated in a stern voice.  
“Are you coming with us? To Faroe?”  
“No. Not yet. Yeavinn has a plan. A good one, too. We'll see if we can bleed them a little bit more” – the Seidhe stated.  
“Whom?” – Carrie asked with curiosity.  
“The Order of the Flaming Rose, obviously.”

They all laughed at that and conversed lightly until Carrie asked in a serious voice:  
“Toru?”  
“Hmm?”  
“The elves... I heard, that there is another group of your kin, the Aen Elle. What do you know about them?”  
“Not much, they left more than a hundred years ago to another world. We haven't heard about them ever since, but it was long before I was born, so... I've never met any of them.”  
“Ah... I see” – Carrie replied pensively.  
“Why?” – Toru asked with curiosity.  
“Just... curiosity, saere.”

But Vendela knew, that the last sentence was a lie. As they headed to sleep, she asked her captain:  
“Why did you lie to Toruviel?”  
“I saw something in the waters... I...” – Carrie paused. – “Ragh nar Roog... I saw the fire and the snow, I saw the great battle and Naglfar, encircled by ships with a sun on black sails. But it was not sailed by giants... It was sailed by elves, though different, than Aen Seidhe we know... Like the ones we saw long ago... I saw a falcon, circling above our heads with a sparrow hawk...”  
“What?!”  
“I don't know what it means, Vendela...”

They both went silent and looked into the fire for a long time, deep in their thoughts before they went to sleep. Her dreams were filled with darkness and fire, snow and wind...


	44. Margo Velen 1269

Moderato

 

MARGO

 

Velen 1269  
Fiddler's Green Bay  
Kerack

As they emerged from the forest to their favourite bay, ten drakkars, five Temerian sloops and two Nilfgaardian galleys were waiting for them, along with many Skelliger standing on the beach with dozens of Aen Seidhe. When Margo approached, she recognised immediately her father's most trusted captain:  
“Vilmar!” – she exclaimed and hugged him closely.  
“Carrie! It's good to see you, lassie!”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“You were lucky, that it was Ronja and Viggo with commander Lóegairen, who came four months ago back to Faroe, seeking our help. Judging by how many elves are already here, you would never make it back to Faroe.”  
“I didn't expect so many... I...”  
“It's all fine. Holger liked the commander at once and sent the volunteers to get the rest of you. As you see, many wanted to come!” – Vilmar stated with a wide grin and turned to the Seidhe standing now next to Carrie, greeting him with surprise in his voice: – “You must be commander Faoiltiarna.”  
“Yes, but for you, just Isengrim” – he smiled and extended his hand, which the Skelliger shook energetically.  
“Aye... Lóegairen didn't know, that you are still alive. They will be extremely happy to see your scarred face.”  
“He didn't” – Isengrim replied chuckling. – “I escaped and ran from the Realms, but then I heard, that my brothers and sisters are still alive, so I came back, only to be almost killed by this dangerous woman” – he stated laughing and looking fondly at her.  
“Don't exaggerate, Is...” – she stated and chuckled.  
“Aye, she tends to do that. Especially the Blacks have many stories to confirm it” – Vilmar added and they all laughed heartedly.  
“How many Scoia'tael do we have, Vilmar?” – Carrie inquired.  
“About two hundred already on Faroe and, as I guess, about two hundred here.”  
“Incredible...” – Isengrim whispered.  
“Yes. Yes, it is...” – Vilmar said nodding his head.  
“Did you find any other officer, besides the ones we rescued at White Bridge?” – Carrie asked slowly.  
“No. I'm afraid not.”  
“OK” – she heard herself replying, but her mind went blank – “I will get to my ship then. Which of the galleys is mine?”  
“To the left” – Vilmar said and smiled fondly.  
“Do you want me to join you, Carrie?” – Isengrim asked with a small smile.  
“Yes, Is. Just... take care of putting your men on my boats” – she answered strongly, but heard her voice shaking slightly.

She didn't look at any of them and walked to the shallow waters.

_Iorveth... I hoped for so long... but it was a fool's hope. I tried so hard, and got so far, but, in the end, it doesn't even matter..._

As she thought that, it started to rain again, just in time to hide teardrops rolling down her cheeks.  
“Carrie!” – it was Isengrim's voice calling her.  
“Yes?” – she asked turning around and struggling to keep her voice steady.  
“Are you all right?”  
“Obviously. We did it and we'll make it out of here. It's a great day, Is.”  
“I know, but why are you so tense?”  
“I thought, that we can do more... I hoped to, but...” – she trailed off.  
“You did things no one believed even possible. I didn't even hope to achieve so much after...” – he paused, but continued: – “We wouldn't be here without you” – he stated and took her hand into his, squeezing it gently.

Somehow, this simple gesture helped her to breathe easier, than just a while ago. She didn't know why, but she approached him and hugged him closely, hiding her face in his chest. He responded immediately, sneaking his right hand around her waist, pulling her closer and moving his left hand to gently stroke her hair. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply his scent, the scent of wood and moss, which calmed her down even more. Then, she looked at his smiling face and smiled herself, just before she separated from him and left.

_We've met three months ago and we've never fought... never screamed at each other... It just worked out on its own. No wonder, that he can calm me down as easily as the moment ago and he can make me forget... Almost._


	45. Isengrim the night of Saovine 1270

ISENGRIM

 

the night of Saovine 1270  
dusk  
the Nilfgaardian galley  
the Great Sea

On the second day at the sea, the rain was pouring down - it was a deluge he hasn't seen for a long time. Everything and everyone was soaking wet. The galley was amazing, made of ebony wood and with black sails - it was an impressive view, but not as impressive as its captain. Carnelian was a born leader, he knew it for a long time, but on the boat... she was in her element. For the whole day she was dynamic, energetic, demanding and grinning widely, even as the cold rain was falling on her face.  
The Skelligian crew and its captain even started to sing merrily in the late afternoon:

_“I thought I heard the Old Man say:_  
_“Leave her, Johnny, leave her”._  
_Tomorrow you will get your pay,_  
_and it's time for us to leave her.”_

Margo stood now at the foredeck, with her hands behind her back, watching the horizon. Something has changed in her demeanour, he could see that. As he stood by her side, she only said:  
“The eve of Savoine... Even the stars hid away...”  
“We cannot light the fires tomorrow...”  
“No, not on the boat. Only the torches...” – she was standing in silence for a long time, before she said: – “I'm going to sleep.”  
She walked away, but he stood there, watching her leave for a long while. On her way she ordered:  
“Ronja, the command is yours.”  
“Aye, captain!” – the woman answered.  
Then, Carrie disappeared in the companionway.

_I want her. I need her. We are so close, but... there is something standing between us like a barrier, a ghost. Sometimes I think, that I can reach her, but then... she is so distanced again. But if we can, I must know..._

He pondered, hesitating for a moment longer, before following her to the captain's cabin. As he stood at her door, he knocked gently to hear her response:  
“Come in!”  
He entered and closed the door behind him, looking at her intently. She was sitting on the edge of the berth, her elbows were resting on her knees and her head on her entangled palms. She looked up at him with surprise, but didn't move or say anything. She watched him, as he approached and knelt in front of her. He saw many opposite emotions on her face and they were changing rapidly. He simply couldn't resist cupping her face with his hands. She started to breathe heavily, shut her eyes and her lips parted slightly. He leaned to her face and kissed her gently. At first, he wasn't sure, if she would respond. But she did: immediately and fiercely, with no hesitation and holding nothing back.  
Everything that happened next felt like the most natural thing in the world. They undressed urgently and frantically, although every piece of their clothing was wet and clung to their skin. She didn't even bother to unbutton his shirt, what caused several buttons to fell to the ground and roll loudly. They never separated, touching each other's bodies hungrily and with abandon. She laid with her back on the berth and encircled his waist with her legs, pulling him closer and urging him to enter her. Still kneeling, he only looked in her foggy eyes for a second and lightly touched her wet entrance, before he slid inside her with a deep moan. Last months of not planned abstinence didn't work in his favour, but he held on, moving his fingers on her sensitive spot and waiting for her to come closer. It was her, who urged him to accelerate his movements and he obliged. It took her a surprisingly short time to came close to her edge. The very moment she tightened around him and arched violently, he came too. As they both panted heavily she pulled him closer and clung to him, embracing him by the neck. They didn't move for a long time.  
When he calmed his breathing, he realised, that she is breathing unevenly, still heavily and with difficulty. He wanted to look at her, but she didn't allow him to move. He waited patiently for her embrace to loosen, but it was her, who pushed him gently a moment later and smiled as he looked her in the eyes. But the smile never reached them.  
She got up and went to the cupboard to get wine. He observed her with concern, sitting on the berth. As she came back, she was already drinking directly from the bottle. The moment she stood in front of him he started:  
“Carrie...”  
“No” – she interrupted quickly – “don't waste this night. Let's make love until we collapse and fall asleep in the process.”  
“I doubt, that it is...” – he tried to speak again, but she put the bottle down and knelt in front of him, taking him into her mouth, immediately making him forget, how he wanted to finish.


	46. Margo the night of Saovine 1270

MARGO

 

the night of Saovine 1270  
two hours before midnight  
the Nilfgaardian galley  
the Great Sea

She wanted to bring him to the end, but felt his palm on her cheek, motioning her to get up to him. So as she crawled on him and her face levelled with his, she tilted her body, pulling him to lay on the top of her. He moved a little bit down at once, to suck on her hard nipple and his fingers traced their way to her clitoris again. Her body reacted to his touch much quicker than her mind and soon, she felt herself on the edge once more. It was her turn to cup his face and pull him up to her.  
They moved together in long, rhythmical and slow moves. This time, with no urgency and no rush, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies, they muffled their moans in a deep kiss, which lasted through their peaks and longer. His body was covering her completely and he entangled his arms around her shoulders, behind her back. She held her hands on the small of his back. For a long time, she stopped thinking at all, only the sensations from her body were registered at the back of her mind. As she sobered for a moment, the sorrow crept back.

Her hands moved on his back on their own accord, as he moved to kiss her neck, her ears, her cleavage and, despite everything, she just let go, allowing her body and sensations - the Seidhe lying on the top of her was causing - to take over.  
They truly made love until they collapsed and the bottle of wine was empty. She didn't even think before she nestled herself in his arms and falling asleep.

She woke up and felt immidiately a strong, male arm stroking lightly her breast and side just above the pelvis. To her own, however sleepy, surprise, her body arched to the Seidhe behind her immediately. She felt his chuckle on the back of her neck.  
“Hmm... You are a light sleeper” – Isengrim spoke warmly.  
“And not a morning person...” – she mumbled, but still smiled and moaned softly, when he pinched her hard nipple.  
“I understand” – he stated, but was still caressing her side.  
As he squeezed the spot above her pelvis just a little bit harder, she felt a shiver on her spine. But it was when he trailed the same spine with his tongue, pushing her gently on her stomach, as she trembled. He didn't rush anything, tracing her body lazily with his fingers, tongue and lips, with the touch so soft, that barely noticeable. His hot breath was tickling her skin teasingly, causing another soft moan to escape her lips. She had never been aroused in the morning, or... almost never... but this morning, she was wet and dizzy with desire much faster, than she thought it was possible. The outcome would be predictable, if not for the knock on the door and Ronja's voice calling:  
“Captain, we have company!”  
“Fuck! Coming!” – she called back in a lustful, husky voice.

Isengrim stopped in his tracks at once, getting up and dressing up with her. They emerged only a few moments later and she was sure, that a crimson red blush was still visible on her cheeks. But, right then, it didn't matter.  
Indeed, five Nilfgaardian ships were coming at them from the South. It was hard to say, whether it was an accident or they thought of a pursuit. She made the decision quickly:  
“Hoist the banner higher and add the red one! Let them see the sigil of the clan Dimun and the sign of captain Carnelian. They wouldn't dare...”

Thankfully, she was right. The ships changed the direction more to the North, to pass them from afar. She looked at Isengrim. His face was still warm and welcoming, but there was also a different emotion. He was impressed. They all heard the stories, that the mere glimpse at three silver lightnings on the battlefield caused Nordlings to run in terror form his Vrihedd Brigade. But at the Great Sea, it was her, who was a living legend, feared from the golden coast of Nilfgaard in the South to snowy port of Lan Exter in the North. And he not only accepted it, he wouldn't have it any other way.


	47. Ronja Savoine 1270

RONJA

 

Savoine 1270  
forenoon  
the Nilfgaardian galley  
the Great Sea

She was also right as to the signs of her arousal, visible on her face, as they came on deck. It was Ronja, obviously, who approached her captain just minutes after the lunch, saying:  
“I am happy, Carrie. It took you too long.”  
“I know. I just...” – her captain tried to reply.  
“Don't. I know. Just... we are all happy. He was watching you closely for a very long time, probably since he came to us...”  
“What?” – Carrie asked in shock.  
“Yeah... I believe, that you were the only person, who didn't realise it. You can be so oblivious sometimes...”  
“We had more important things to do” – the other woman replied slightly irritated.  
“Are we sailing to Harviken or straight to Urialla?” – Ronja decided to change the subject.  
“Harviken. An Skellig later, at the right time. Bran an Tuirseach still doesn't know, that the Islands have few hundreds of new inhabitants... And I'm not sure, how he will react...”  
“Maybe Svanrige?”  
“Do you seriously think, that it's a good idea, after what you have seen today in the morning?”  
“No...”  
“No, indeed. We will find a way.”

Both women smiled at each other. The rain stopped at last and only the breeze could be felt now. They stood looking at the horizon, at the Great Sea in owe. You can sail it back and forth hundreds of times, but it will still amaze you. The vastness of the waters was never to be underestimated...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Within Temptation „Lost”


	48. Isengrim Saovine 1270

ISENGRIM

 

Saovine 1270  
the night of fires  
the Nilfgaardian galley  
the Great Sea

 

_Tedd Cumha... Time of nostalgia is always hard, but since the war... it became unbearable. So many fallen, so many lost... Even... no. No, I can't. Not yet._

He was observing Skelliger and Aen Seidhe holding unlighted torches. On the Sea, the ceremony of fires on the Savoine night looked quite different and was led, obviously, by the captain. All the ships were drifting now close to each other. He heard Vilmar calling Carnelian from the gallery drifting next to theirs:  
“Carrie! We are ready as you are, lassie!”

The ships encircled their galley, so the pirates would hear their leader, speaking from the foredeck of her boat:  
“Skelliger!”  
“Aye!” – the crowd answered.  
“This night we share with our friends, with our guests, and we welcome them for the first time to the Feast of the Dead!”  
“Aye!” – the crews shouted again, beating on their shields.  
“In the last few years, many of our comrades departed to Valhalla to feast with Odin and Frigg, and to spar with mighty Thor! They all wait for Ragh nar Roog in the hall of heroes, I have no doubt as to that! We can only wish to join them and we will when our time comes!”  
“Aye!” – the crowd replied.  
“But we, who awaits death, must light the lights to remember, that life still burns in us: with hunger, need and desire, cause we are the Skelliger and we reach for more!”  
“Aye!” – the crowd answered like thunder, beating on their shields again.

After her speech, she lighted her torch and descended, sharing her light with Ronja and then, to Isengrim's utter surprise, with him. The flame was dancing in her eyes, which today truly looked predatory and greedy. But the moment their torches touched, she grinned at him and moved to the Skelliger standing next to him.  
The torches burned down, but everyone was still sitting on the deck: drinking, eating and celebrating. All were intoxicated with various substances, soon. Some played Gwent, some preferred fist-fighting, some just conversed enthusiastically. Isengrim saw Carrie's smile, as she was spending time with her crew and whispering something in Ronja's ear. The other woman blushed and looked at Viggo, who was right now standing in the companionway, looking intently at both women. After a short while, Ronja got up and went to the companionway, taking Viggo's hand and disappearing with him downstairs. Carrie stood up, too and approached Isengrim with a smirk. As she was close, she extended her hand, which he took eagerly and they went down below the deck - to her cabin.  
Once inside, Carrie closed the door and started to undress, approaching him slowly with a playful smirk. He took off his coat and shoes, but didn't have time to remove more. Carrie was already in front of him, kissing him fiercely, almost violently, unbuttoning his trousers and moving them both in the direction of the cupboard. The moment her legs touched it, she turned around and bent on it, tilting her hips up. He looked down at her bottom and tights spread so welcomingly in front of him and smirked. His hand moved to her entrance, slowly, too slowly, cause she panted soon:  
“You can look later” – turning her head around with an impatient smile.  
He chucked, but entered her swiftly, that granted him an appreciative moan. Moving inside her, he leaned to her back, kissing it gently, making her lean to his touch. One of his hands rested on her clitoris, while the other grabbed her by the hip, what caused even louder, satisfied moan to escape her lips. They came moaning probably too loudly, but no one cared tonight.  
Quickly, she turned around to face him with a smile. He kissed her and pushed her gently to sit on the cupboard. Her bottom rested on its edge and her back leaned on the wall. The cupboard was really tight, but it didn't bother them at all. She steadied herself, encircling her legs around his waist and her hands were grabbing his shoulders. In this position, soon, he was inside her again, moving in slow and rhythmical thrusts. But tonight, she was too hungry for her pleasure to relish it. Her hand sneaked between them and moved to her clitoris. He chuckled at her action and grabbed harder her bottom, accelerating their movements. As she came, she looked at him with her hazy eyes and for a moment, he froze. There was something blank in them, something distant and so unlike her. She noticed his hesitation and resumed quickly their movements, urging him to cum.  
Afterwards, he looked at her for a long time. But, she was back to her normal demeanour. They moved to the berth and fell asleep almost immediately.

In the morning he was the first to wake up, again. The moment he did, some strange feeling of falling down overwhelmed him, but just for a short while. Carrie was still asleep, but moved on the berth far from him. So far indeed, that their bodies didn't touch at all. He remembered the strange look in her eyes last night...

_The same as yesterday... How sleeping in one bed you can move so far from me is beyond my comprehension... Distanced, you are distanced... Like it was just an exercise for you, a pass-time. How did you put it yesterday? Ah... we reach for more. Is that, what it is for you?_

He observed her, as she was sleeping serenely and listened to her even breathing. Then, his gaze averted to the cabin and walls of the boat.

_We are guests here. These ships are theirs, as are the rules. They took us in like strayed dogs... Will we ever have anything of our own? No... This line of thinking leads no where._

He realised, that Carrie is waking up slowly. She looked at him with sleepy eyes and for a moment he saw the confusion on her face before she smiled gently. He asked at once, faking playful voice:  
“Whom did you expect to see, hmm?”  
“What?”  
“You were confused as you saw me...”  
“Ah... no one, truly... I'm not used to sleeping with somebody.”  
“So how does it work? You invite someone for sex and then ask him or her to leave?” – he looked at her with confusion.  
“No... I don't invite someone to my room, I get invited and I just leave after...”  
“Wha...?”  
“We should get up” – she changed the subject.  
“So why I am here, in captain's cabin, Carrie?”  
“Well... despite being shameless, I'm rather a private person. On this galley only two cabins are single: mine and Ronja's.”  
“So this was a practical decision?” – he asked in a shock.  
“Yes, it was. Why are you so shocked?” – she asked irritated.  
“You're different, I'm just trying to understand you.”  
“Different, how?”  
“They say that we, Aen Seidhe, are cold. But... you can detach your emotions in a way, which is unthinkable even for me.”  
“Are you talking about my race?” – she asked even more irritated and got up to dress. – “Well... you knew whom you wanted to fuck two days ago when you followed me here. So sorry, that I don't meet your expectations as to my emotions...”  
“Carrie...” – he got up, too and approached her to stroke her cheek – “it's not... I told you: I am trying to understand. I want to understand.”  
“Why?” – she asked, but didn't run away from his touch.  
“Why? Isn't it obvious? I care for you.”  
“Why?”  
“What?”  
“You heard me: why?” – she asked coldly, looking at his confused face.  
“You are as fascinating and daring person as you are beautiful and fierce. I want this, us, to continue, when we arrive at Faroe” – he stated calmly.  
“You are a Seidhe, Is” – she said shaking her head – “and as far as I am free on my journeys, at home... well... there are things, which won't be tolerated. I can have a lover, but... it would need to be exclusive. I would never ask you to give up your freedom for me.”  
“So your way of caring for me is telling me to fuck whomever I wish” – he stated chuckling – “this is certainly something new... Isn't it a point of freedom to be able to choose how one wants to exercise it?”  
“Are you telling me, that you are choosing such an arrangement?” – she asked shocked.  
“Yes, as long as you want it, too...”  
“I... you are complicating things, Is... I am not the best partner material...”  
“I know. But the easy way was never my thing.”

She was staring at him intently for a long time, before she stated:  
“You'll regret that... I know you will... I care for you too much not to warn you. But, I swear, that whatever happens, you and your men will always be welcomed at Skellige. Whatever happens between us, it will change nothing. The only word you must keep is the one you will give to my father, if you choose to give it, as we arrive.”  
“I know, Carrie. This is exactly why I don't hesitate. This is probably the only advantage of the fact, that you can detach your emotions...” – he replied with a small smile.

She approached him slowly and kissed him. But there was something different in that kiss. It wasn't a promise, it was a warning and a surrender.


	49. Mousesack Yule 1270

MOUSESACK

 

Yule 1270  
Harviken  
Faroe

He was standing at the harbour with Holger, Kerstin and Lóegairen, observing slowly incoming fleet. Skelliger druids had seen many things in their history, but the ease with which the Aen Seidhe were welcomed on Faroe was beyond his comprehension. He expected quarrels, problems, but nothing like that happened. To the contrary: both Harviken and Trottheim were now growing fast and a new village was already founded at the Eastern shore of the Faroe Island. They called it Seidhedol and the name fitted it perfectly – the new village was located in a deep fjord, encircled with almost white cliffs.  
The ships landed densely, quays in Harviken were not adjusted for such a fleet. Many Seidhe and Skelliger descended on quays and greeted the jarl and his family with respect. Mousesack saw Carnelian leaving the last galley, accompanied by a dark-haired Seidhe. As Lóegairen saw him, he whispered in disbelieve:  
“Isengrim?”  
And truly, to everyone's surprise, they saw the famous scar running across the man's face. As they approached, he was greeted enthusiastically by Lóegairen and other Seidhe, who were waiting at the harbour. In the meantime, Carrie approached her parents:  
“Mother, Father!” – they hugged their daughter closely, after all, she was gone for more than a year this time.  
“Carrie... It is so good to see you. We missed you dearly” – Kerstin said smiling.  
“Mum, dad, may I introduce: Isengrim Faoiltiarna” – she said motioning to the newcomer. – “Is, this is jarl of the clan Dimun: Holger Blackhand and Kerstin, my parents.”  
“It's an honour, jarl” – Isengrim stated and waited for the response.  
“Likewise, commander. It's a rare sight to see someone resurrected from death and your men were talking highly about you” – Holger extended his hand, which the Seidhe shook. – “Welcome to Faroe! There is much to talk about, but for now, we prepared a place for you to stay and we are waiting with the feast.”  
“Thank you, jarl.”  
“Holger. Call me Holger, we do not pay too much attention to titles here, on the Isles.”  
“Isengrim, then” – they both smiled at each other.  
“And this is my beloved wife, Kerstin.”  
“Enchanté” – the Seidhe stated shaking her extended hand.  
“Likewise. Come, I'll show you around” – Kerstin said with a smile and looked curiously at her daughter, who stayed behind with her father.

As the newcomers left, Carrie came to him:  
“Mousesack!”  
“Carnelian. You were missed, lassie.”  
“We don't have much time, Carrie” – Holger interrupted – “so I will cut to the chase: is it him?”  
“What?”  
“Isengrim... were you looking for him?”  
“No, father. We've met a few months ago.”  
“But you are close.”  
“Now, we are.”  
“You are many things, my daughter, but not changeable” – Holger stated, looking sternly at Carrie. – “What are you doing?”  
“He... is dead” – she answered in a blank voice. – “We... are alive.”  
“Oh... I understand” – her father replied, but his voice was very sad now. – “I apologise, I shouldn't have raised this subject. Come here.”  
They hugged closely and rested like that for a long time. Mousesack even thought for a moment, that she is sobbing quietly, but as they separated, her face was determined again:  
“We brought another two hundred. I need to speak to Bran an Tuirseach.”  
“Yes, you do. The Aen Seidhe are extremely disciplined and ready to work to participate in the well-being of the whole Faroe, but... We don't have resources for so many” – Holger replied.  
“And did you think about the oath?”  
“I've even spoken with Lóegairen about it.”  
“And?”  
“Well, only officers of the Vrihedd Brigade gave their oaths to the Emperor. The rest is free and ready to stay with us, which will require giving the warriors oath.”  
“But the officers can't. Not according to our laws...” – Carrie added for her father.  
“True, unless they take a new name...” – Mousesack joined the discussion.  
“They would need to go through the trial, then the Path and then: give everything up. After all of that, the clan would need to decide in their favour. It's almost an impossible solution” – Carrie stated shaking her head. – “Did you tell that to Lóegairen?”  
“Not yet. He was more interested in the fate of his men than his own. The commanders don't expect much from their fate by now. Even here...” – Holger stated slowly.  
“We must meet with all thirty of them and tell them, as soon as possible. They have a right to know...” – Carnelian decided and they agreed.

In the evening, there was a feast in the jarl's hall. Only the officers of the Vrihedd were invited to dine with the jarl, his family and five most trusted friends. They drunk for the gods and for the dead and ate the supper. After that, Holger raised his hands and stated:  
“Dear guests. For the last six months some of you were already welcomed on Faroe and the rest just arrived today. I wanted to speak with my family before making any decision and we are ready to share with you, what we agreed upon” – he paused. – “Your men are welcome to stay and pledge themselves as our warriors: for them, nothing would really change. As to you” – he paused again – “it is more complicated. Pursuant to our laws, we cannot take the warriors oath from a man sworn to another” – after his words, dead silence fell in the hall. – “But... the same laws state, that the jarl can accept anyone worthy of the honour to the clan and any member of the clan can become a warrior.”  
“So... if I understand you correctly, Holger” – Lóegairen started slowly – “our men can remain who they are and stay here, on Skellige, protected by your laws, as part of your people?”  
“Yes.”  
“But we must become Skelliger first, to have the same status?” – Lóegairen asked tensed.  
“Yes. For now, you are refugees, guests protected by the law of hospitality, but...”  
“Not one of you” – it was Coinneach, who finished for him.  
“Yes. You are still under the oath you gave to Emhyr var Emreis... this is a strain not easy to erase.”  
“Don't say...” – Coinneach stated sternly.  
“Let's say, that we agree” – Lóegairen said slowly. – “How would it look like?”

Holger looked at Carnelian, who looked at him simultaneously. Then, she spoke sternly:  
“There are only five known accounts in our history of something like that. And I must warn you: only two have a happy ending” – she looked at them all grievously. – “First, you will need to take part in a trial set out for you by the Crow, our Seer. The visions of your trials will be sent to her by the gods. Only if she sees you taking the trial, you'll be allowed to do it and she would never share the outcome with anyone. Then, you will need to take the Path of Warriors. At last, the whole clan will gather to decide about your fate.”  
“A piece of lembas...” – Lóegairen said sternly.  
“You are right. Our gods are cruel, my friends. No one can foresee, what would happen to you and most importantly: what the gods will demand from you...”  
“But we can decide not to take the trial, even if it's set out for us, right?” – Coinneach asked.  
“Yes. But... you'll be called a coward. There will be no place for you on Skellige” – Carrie answered with sorrow in her voice.  
“So, if we agree to the whole ordeal, we will need to go through it or leave?” – now it was Isengrim who spoke in a concerned voice.

As he said it, the door swung open, they heard heavy rain pouring down outside and a cold wind blew to the hall, extinguishing the fire, which burned in the middle of the room. Only a few candles and the dim light of the moon were giving any light in the hall. An old, blind woman entered and closed the door. The jarl stood at once and greeted her:  
“Crow, welcome.”  
“Jarl Holger...” – she stated in a hoarse voice – “and the Elder Folk... Old and wise they say... Experienced they look, but still green as grass, no more than boys and girls for the gods in Valhalla... You are not the one to agree or decide. Fates did and sent me a dream.”


	50. Vilmar Yule 1270

VILMAR

 

Yule 1270  
Harviken  
Faroe

The hall was totally silent and shivers went through his spine, as he heard the old woman's voice reciting in a trance:

 

_As thirty ghosts they came, invited,_  
_the blood spilt follows them, united._  
_The sands of time pour through thy fingers_  
_like phantoms lost and in one mingled._

_What was left behind, will once be found,_  
_the fates ere woven are still close bound._  
_The song, yet not sung, opens the Door,_  
_which is now closed; would you know yet more?_

_The beginning of this end is here,_  
_our world is soon to become mere whirl._  
_Thy sweet dreams play you as thy worst fears,_  
_for their hungry screams open thy ears._

_Lleuad for gain and loss she was ere born,_  
_to bring the Dead; would you know yet more?_  
_From ice and void it is woken,_  
_to bring Fate's irony as token._

_Two will fight and two will die at night,_  
_none to gain, all to lose, but the Bright,_  
_as the Old, the Young, the Ancient One,_  
_the Other, the Lost and the Hunter come._

 

As the Crow finished, no one spoke. He noticed, that even the Seidhe observed the old woman with horror in their eyes. She approached Isengrim slowly and put her hand on his, speaking again:  
“You will all venture the Cave of Dreams at night and you will all be alone in the dark. You will go and you will reunite with your brothers” – she paused and turned directly to Isengrim before she continued: – “The light of the Moon deceives you, but you will follow it still, eagerly. You will lose your sight and your hearing, your heart and your soul you will give to the devil. You will spill your own blood and you will sacrifice it all. The light of the Moon will never guide you back. The gods have spoken, you will pay your price.”

Isengrim stopped breathing. All the Seidhe in the hall seemed to hold their breath, too.

_The trial is set. Terrible and cruel one._

It was Lóegairen, who broke the silence:  
“Are you saying, that if we take the trail, we will die?”  
“What is dead may never die” – the Crow replied.  
“What is in the Cave of Dreams?” – Coinneach asked.  
“All that is already in your heart” – the Crow answered and slowly left the hall.

The silence fell again and all of them were deep in their thoughts. After a long time, Carnelian spoke quietly:  
“Squass'me... There is nothing we can do.”

They all remained in the hall, drinking and trying to talk about trivia. There were some talks about the war, sailing, hunting. After an hour, everybody almost forgot about the whole event.  
Vilmar was just talking with Holger when the other man stood up and went to the spot, where Carrie was just walking with Isengrim. Everybody suspected, where they wanted to go and it was not Holger's custom to say anything in situations like that. He took Isengrim aside, leaving Carrie dumbfounded, but obediently waiting for their return. As Isengrim came back, they both bowed slightly to the jarl and left in the direction of her bedroom, obviously.

_Strange... What does he want to achieve?_

As Holger came back to the table and sat next to him, Vilmar asked:  
“You've never done anything like that before. What did you tell to this young man?”  
“Young man? He is barely younger than me, Vil...”  
“He still looks twenty-five.”  
“But is not and feels not... They lost a lot in these last years.”  
“They did, no one will argue with that. Either way, what did you tell him?”  
“That I will support any decision he will make and that I support any decision she makes.”  
“So he was the reason for all of this?”  
“No. Whomever he was, Carrie told me, that he is dead.”  
“Oh... It didn't take her too long to...”  
“She hasn't seen him since 1266 and he died at Brenna.”  
“Oh... all right. I judged her too quickly, then” – Vilmar agreed and paused before continuing: – “So you are actually happy for her, aren't you?”  
“The one thing we know about them for sure is that they fight for their own to the end. Their loyalty is legendary and almost cost them their lives. He chose to be loyal to her, what more can I ask for? And... I like him. She seems calm and relaxed around him, this is a good thing.”  
“I like him, too. He is a good and strong leader, his men were telling many stories on the boat... But... do you think, that...?”  
“I don't know. We will see. They must venture the Caves and the Path first. No one knows, what will happen.”  
“Right. Let's drink to the elves, then. May Freya watch over them, whatever they do next.”

They drunk, spilt the last sip on the ground and sat for a long time in silence.


	51. Isengrim Lammas 1270

Presto

 

ISENGRIM

 

Lammas 1270  
shore near to the Cave of Dreams  
Ard Skellig

They arrived at the shore near the Cave at midday, but waited till dusk to enter it. In the meantime, he and Carrie decided to spend some time in their cabin, obviously.

_Our cabin... Things changed a lot since our first journey on a boat..._

He stayed in Harviken, but both were working with the rest of the Seidhe on building a new settlement and new houses in old ones. They still haven't met with the king, waiting for the outcome of the trial.

_Well... if we are to die tonight, there would be no point in involving him, would it?_

Right now, Carrie was lying relaxed on his shoulder, hugging him closely. For a long time they didn't speak, but in the end, she started:  
“I hope, that you are not doing this for me.”  
“I'm doing it mostly for my men, you know it. We all got used to living on Faroe with you, Skelliger. As improbable as it seemed to be...”  
“Scoia'tael leaving peacefully among dh'oine. You are right. Sounds like a joke.”  
“But you, pirates, are the special brand of your race” – he said chuckling. – “We have much more in common than not.”  
“True. But still, Isengrim... even if you emerge from this cave, venture the Path, before you will be accepted, you'll need to give up everything. Lose your identity to some extent.”  
“I know. But you don't lose, if you give up freely.”  
“Still...”  
“You want much less from us than what we would lose either way, if we stayed on the Continent. We were deceived and betrayed, there was not much left for us there... Thanks to you, against all the odds, we thrive here. After Gromlaidh was born... many things changed. We started to hope again...”  
“Pure-blooded Aen Seidhe from Faroe... you are right. Nothing seems impossible any longer” – as she said that, she moved up to kiss him gently.

When she did, he moved both of them to their sides, to face each other. It didn't take her long to be ready again, so he pulled her leg under his side and she encircled his other side with the other leg. He always loved making love with her so close, that even the air couldn't sneak between them. They took their time, moving slowly and passionately together. They muffled their moans in a deep kiss. As they laid there, spent and satisfied, she spoke again in a pensive voice:  
“The drop drills the rock not by force, but by falling itself...”  
“Where did it come from?” – he asked chuckling.  
“Just... I want you to come back. I hate waiting.”  
“I know. Don't...” – he started, but she interrupted quickly:  
“Don't say: do not worry. I will. The Crow... what she said...”  
“We all felt this strange fear. But you can't do anything, can you?”  
“No, I can't. Not this time...” – she paused and kissed him again. – “Come. It is time. Let's get it over with.”

As they descended to the beach, everyone has already been waiting for them. It was Vilmar, who stated:  
“We will wait on the other side. This is as far as we go. May Freya watch over you, friends. Take the herbs” – he handed each of them a portion, which they ate at once – “and go.”

He looked at Carrie, smiled and went inside the darkness of the Cave.


	52. Margo Lammas 1270

MARGO

 

Lammas 1270  
shore near to the Cave of Dreams  
Ard Skellig

It was the third morning since the Aen Seidhe went inside. Her heart was clenched painfully with worry. The sun raised and set, signalling the end of yet another day.

_Did I send them to their death?_

“Vilmar!” – she called the older captain.  
“Carrie...”  
“They are gone for 72 hours... I...”  
“I know. But we cannot enter. We must consider how long are we ready to wait, lassie.”  
“I am not leaving them. As long as there is a chance, that they are alive.”  
“I know, neither am I. But after two weeks, there will be no chance any longer.”  
“Then, we will speak in two weeks.”  
“Aye” – he agreed and as he moved from her, they saw figures emerging from the cave.  
They looked like ghosts, but they were alive. She started to smile in joy as she saw something, that froze her blood. They carried one body.  
“Fuck!” – Vilmar exclaimed and run in their direction, many of the crew followed him.  
She followed after a moment and almost fell, as she saw Isengrim on the ground. It was Coinneach, who upon seeing her, stated:  
“He is alive, Carrie. But unconscious. It's how we found him. He lost a lot of blood.”  
“How?”  
“I... let's not speak about it... this cave is vile... vile and ruthless. If I'd known, I would never have venture it” – Coinneach answered absent-mindedly and looked at her with unseeing, haunted eyes.

They spoke no more. On their way back to Faroe, Isengrim was still unconscious. At dawn, she sat completely silent with Coinneach and Lóegairen in the captain's cabin. Since they came aboard, they haven't said a single word. Suddenly, they heard Isengrim's weak voice:  
“Fraere...”  
“I'm here, Is” – Coinneach came closer to him, but the lying Seidhe didn't hear him.  
“Iorveth... don't attack me, I... fraere!”  
“Isengrim, wake up! It's just a dream” – Coinneach continued.  
“I killed you... I killed you... I can't I... Iorveth!”  
“Isengrim! It's just a dream! It's not real!” – Coinneach stated strongly, shaking him.

Hearing this name... she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. It took her a while to calm down, still she did and opened her eyes, waiting for Isengrim to wake up. But he didn't move.

 

In Harviken he was laid in the guest bedroom of the jarl's house. As they were left alone, she looked at deep cuts on his forearms on both hands starting from the outside. She knew, what it meant.

_He tried to kill himself. What could bring him to such a state?_

Isengrim woke up two days later, at midday. At the time, she was in Trottheim, helping with the expansion of the village. Ragnar came for her galloping on his piebald tobiano horse and calling from afar:  
“He is awake!”  
Carrie left everything and jumped on her dapple-grey horse to gallop back home. She ran through the hall and entered the guest bedroom in a hurry. Her mother, father and brother were there with Coinneach and Tiernan, all looked grievously at her.  
“Is!” – she started from the door.  
“He can't hear you, darling” – her mother stated with sadness.  
“What?!” – she exclaimed and came closer to the bed.

As she looked in Isengrim's dark eyes, she knew at once: he couldn't see, either. And she remembered with terror the words of the Crow:

_You will lose your sight and your hearing, your heart and your soul you will give to the devil. You will spill your own blood and you will sacrifice it all._

She took his hand and he must have recognised her, because he said:  
“Ma mienne... It's fine. I... I deserved that. I saw him fight, I heard as he fell, I could have saved him. But we had orders to go forward and I did. I left him behind. I did something, that you would never do, Carrie. I was so blinded with the faith in the cause, in the dream, that I sacrificed my brother. I moved forward, I wanted to forget, but I had no right...”

_Iorveth... you are talking about him... Oh, gods... you are punishing both of us and for what? For living? For moving on? Freya... have mercy... My heart still bleeds for him, but he is gone. We need each other._

She squeezed his hand, but he took it away from her:  
“No, Carnelian. Go. Leave me. There are still things, which must be done. I am useless. Leave me, now. I will go with Coinneach to Seidhedol and then, you must sail to An Skellig. Carnelian, I don't want you to come to me.”

_Oh... did I lose again just as I thought I had it all?_

The silence fell. She was looking at him with wide eyes. But there was nothing, that she could do, she knew it well. It was Halbjorn, who spoke:  
“We will keep watch over him. Nothing will happen, Carrie. Once he feels better... maybe...”  
“No, Halbjorn...” – she replied in a sad voice. – “For him, this is a punishment. You heard him” – she paused before continuing: – “He is right. We must go to An Skellig, but when I come back, we will think again. In the meantime, father, speak to Mousesack. I believe in gods, but I doubt, that this is a punishment. More possibly - something in the herbs caused it. If so, it may be reversible...”

She stood up, looked at Isengrim one more time and left to prepare boats for sailing.


	53. Coinneach Velen 1270

COINNEACH

 

Velen 1270  
Urialla  
An Skellig

They arrived at the harbour in the late afternoon. An Skellig was alike other islands in Skellige archipelago: covered in spruce forest, with high mountains hidden in the snow. The port town was neat and bigger than Harviken. The king was expecting Carnelian, but he didn't expect Scoia'tael commanders at her side. This was why she left them on her ship and descended to the quay alone.  
She was gone for an hour, but they were observing her interaction with an older man with greyish hair and beard, and a much younger man with raven-black hair, standing at his side. In the beginning, it looked like a polite conversation. Then, the older man started to move his hands frantically. In the end, he was calm again.  
All three of them came on the ship a few moments later. It was the older man, who started to speak to Carrie:  
“Well... I must say, that I was probably more lucky than wise. If this is returning a favour, I'm afraid to think, what you would demand as a wedding gift, Carnelian. You would make an excellent queen at my son's side, my dear and I will never stop regretting that you refuse to be his wife. You and Svanrige, you would achieve great things, things that we cannot even imagine. But... it's not too late, yet” – then, he turned to them and he chuckled first, but said: – “Commanders, Holger is an eccentric man, but no one suspected, that he would do something like this. Still, I understand why, even if I don't approve. On the other hand, we owe nothing to those land rats and it's even... pleasurable to show them just that. After all, in the Peace Treaty you were surrendered to the kings of the North and no one asked my opinion. To tell the truth, if we were to be trailed for war crimes, we would be hanged, too. Or worse. All in all, welcome to An Skellig. The clan Tuirseach will accept any decision of the clan Dimun and I will make sure, that other clans will follow when the time comes. You are invited to take the Path of Warriors, tomorrow. Tonight, we'll feast!”  
Coinneach was overwhelmed by all, that he just heard. Still, he gathered himself quickly and stated:  
“Thank you, Your Grace.”  
“Oh... we don't use titles here... call me Bran and this is my son, Svanrige” – the king motioned to the young man.  
“Coinneach, honour to meet you” – they all shook hands and Bran stated:  
“Great. Come.”

In the king's house, they were greeted with bread and salt. Carnelian had told them on the boat, that this is a symbol of exceeding the king's hospitality and if they wouldn't be greeted like that, they must escape as quickly as possible.

_She can be so encouraging..._

 

The next day, they were to venture the Path one by one. After the Caves, well... they weren't too excited about it, but they have been wrong. As he stood on the peak, where once Castle Tuirseach was located, he looked around. The whole archipelago could be seen from this spot. But most of it was now under numerous, white clouds.

_Breathtaking view. Unlike the Caves, the Path of Warriors is truly worth venturing._

They all survived and now, sat at the table with the king, as his warriors were shouting enthusiastically:  
“Like true Skelliger!”  
“Good job!”  
The king raised his hands and spoke:  
“Now, sit at my table and let's drink to the Aen Seidhe, sitting with us here, tonight. Skål!”  
“Skål!” – replied the crowd.

After they all drunk, Svanrige went to stand very close to Carrie and whispered something in her ear. She laughed heartedly and followed him deeper into the house. Bran turned to Coinneach and stated:  
“Well, they were together for many years... But it was a long time ago.”  
“What happened?” – the Seidhe asked.  
“Hard to say. You know, it may not look like that, but Holger is rich... very rich... and he is a legendary pirate. But most importantly, he and Crach, are the best leaders I know. Since Svan and Carrie were children, I've planned this marriage. The more Carnelian grew, the better I knew, that it would be great for my family, my legacy, my son's heritage... Having her at his side would assure his succession. The jarls would still vote, but... the outcome would be obvious. Now... it's not so simple anymore. And the young fool refuses to marry at all.”  
“He loves her?”  
“I think so... As they were attacking the Blacks, in 1267 and in 1268, we all thought that they will come back together... But, well... He said, that her heart belonged to someone else.”  
“What?”  
“Yeah... young fools. But, there is not much we can do, right? Though, I see, that they are gone now, so maybe...?”

They were conversing for a while longer, but Coinneach couldn't focus. Something was wrong. He couldn't say what, but... this feeling, that Carnelian is hiding more than they've expected and that they were trapped now... was overwhelming.  
He left the house and headed to the harbour. To his surprise, he found Carrie alone, standing in the moonlight and looking at the horizon. And he remembered the words of the Crow.

_Lleuad for gain and loss she was ere born, to bring the Dead; would you know yet more?_

Soon, her crew joined her and he heard her sing in a very sorrowful voice, accompanied by the lute:

_“Oh, if I could go back in time_  
_When you only held me in my mind_  
_Just a longing, gone without a trace_  
_Oh, I wish I never ever seen your face.”_


	54. Margo Velen 1270

MARGO

 

Velen 1270  
Harviken  
Faroe

Their boats were slowly approaching the harbour. She stood at the foredeck, looking intently at the figure waiting for them at the quay. There he was: tall and proud, handsome and strong. Against all odds - he was back. She felt her heart quickening its pace and a wide grin crept on her face.

_Merciful Freya, thank you... my heart... I'm not sure if I have the strength to lose for the third time..._

The moment they landed, she jumped on the quay and ran into his embrace:  
“Isengrim!”  
“Carrie!”  
“You can see! You are back!”  
“I am so sorry, ma mienne...”  
“No! Stop. You were in a terrible pain. But you are here now, it's all I want” – she looked him in the eyes and they kissed.  
They stood at the quay, hugging and kissing deeply. Everything disappeared, even thoughts left her mind. For the moment, the only thing, that existed was him. But moments like that never last forever. This one didn't as well. It was a well-known voice calling her name, which brought her back to reality:  
“Carrie!”  
“Toru!” – she called back, as she separated form Isengrim, smiled at him and then, headed to the female Seidhe.  
“Sor'ca!” – they hugged closely.  
“It is great to see you, saere.”  
“Carrie!” – it was Yaevinn, who was heading in their direction, too.  
“Fraere!” – they hugged closely as well.  
“What happened?” – Carrie asked and looked at them both.  
“We needed to run from Temeria. Everything fucked up... If it wasn't for Gwynbleidd...” – Yeavinn replied.  
“Geralt of Rivia?” – she inquired, quite shocked.  
“The same.”  
“I heard, that he was dead.”  
“Not yet. Thankfully” – Toruviel stated and continued – “but he stayed with Foltest. In the meantime, we heard news from the East and we decided to sail here to share it with you. It was a terrible experience, but... I can get used to it” – she grinned at the end.  
“You are very welcome here” – Carrie stated. – “I must change and later we'll have a feast, I see you soon.”  
“May I walk with you?” – the female Seidhe asked, but was already at her side.  
“Sure.”  
“Isengrim...”  
“Yes.”  
“I understand you sor'ca. But... does he know? Did you tell him?”  
“No. I hope never to do that and I will be grateful if you won't, as well. We agreed on it a long time ago in Brokilon, remember?”  
“He would never, if he knew...”  
“Exactly” – the captain replied and looked at the Seidhe, who looked back at her with uncertainty.  
“You know... of all the Seidhe, who came here with you, you chose... He would have been furious...” – Toruviel stated with a distant sadness in her voice.  
“It's not why I stayed with Is, Toru” – Carrie answered calmly.  
“Then why?”  
“I... he makes me forget. He is always patient and I have never been so calm in my life. I almost... I think, that one day... I could move on.”  
“So he is not a symptom of moving on, but of mourning?” – Toruviel looked at her with curiosity and sorrow.  
“For now, he reminds me, that we are alive” – Carrie replied with a small smile.  
Toruviel just hugged her again. As they separated, she went back to Yeavinn and Carrie headed home.

Her mother was waiting for her in the hall and greeted her at once:  
“Darling!”  
“Mum!”  
“How was it?”  
“Good and smooth. They did it.”  
“Obviously, we've never doubted that. We plan the gathering for tonight. We will vote.”  
“So soon? Why hurry?”  
“There are things, which we need to discuss, as soon as possible.”  
“And Isengrim?”  
“It was him, who suggested the hurry. He'll take the Path later. But now, go and change. The feast is in two hours” – her mother hugged her again and Carrie left.

In the evening, all of the members of the clan Dimun gathered in the hall. All of the Aen Seidhe commanders and Toruviel with Yeavinn were there, as well. As Carrie entered the room, her father stood up and started to speak:  
“Everyone! The day has come, our friends came victorious and I held them worthy of becoming part of the clan. First, I need to ask all of you, if you are ready to join my clan?”  
“Aye!” – all Aen Seidhe replied.  
“Now, every member of the clan will say: Aye! Or Nay! The vote must be unanimous.”  
The Skelliger shouted: Aye! One by one. She joined them, then her brother, mother and father. After he did, he spoke smiling:  
“Well! From this day till your last day, you can call yourselves members of the clan Dimun! And, as you come back, you would be very welcome to take the warriors oath!”  
“Come back?” – Carrie asked in surprise.  
“This is the second thing, which we need to discuss” – her father stated. – “As Toruviel and Yeavinn came here, they brought news.”  
“What news?”  
“The new power is rising in the East. The Virgin of Aedrin is fighting for the liberation of the Pontar Valley. She wants to create an independent and tolerant State for all: Free Pontar Valley, land without prejudice” – Toruviel said smiling.  
“Good for her. If she believes in such things she is a fool” – Carrie replied, shaking her head.  
The crowd in the hall went silent. The Aen Seidhe commanders were looking strangely at her, but Toruviel, Yeavinn and Isengrim looked disappointed. This angered her and she stood up, before she continued:  
“Come on! We are the pirates, we are opportunist: we take what we want, as we want it. We raid and commandeer boats, we steal and kill. But we are not mercenaries and we do not believe in fool's dreams.”  
“But Carrie...” – to her surprise, it was Vilmar who spoke.  
“Don't tell me, that you believe in this fantasy... The only reply I would believe in, is that you want to check, if this virgin is truly a virgin!” – the young female captain joked and the pirates laughed loudly at that. As they finished, Isengrim spoke in a tense voice:  
“Scoia'tael fight at her side.”  
“Under whose command?” – Carrie inquired.  
“We don't know” – Toruviel answered. – “But they need help.”  
“You are not prisoners here” – the young captain stated slowly, looking at Isengrim – “if my father allows it, you can take some of our commandeered boats and pursue yet another daydream...”  
“I am not leaving them behind this time” – Isengrim replied strongly.  
“We can go too and pillage on the way” – Vilmar suggested.  
“It's not who we are!” – Carrie exclaimed. – “And it would be dangerous to fight against the Northern kings. We are talking about the Pontar Valley, so I guess it is Demawend's son - prince Stennis and king Henselt of Kaedwen, who this Virgin stands against. We shouldn't meddle.”  
“Stennis is at her side. Kaedwen is trying to claim the Valley again” – Toruviel stated, standing up too. – “They are not against everyone. They have allies.”  
“We have no interest in the quarrel with Henselt” – Carrie replied strongly.  
“Is it all you care about, Carrie?! Your interest?!” – Toruviel exclaimed.  
“Yes, Toruviel. I'm a pirate. This is exactly what I care about.”  
“Is there nothing else worth fighting for?”  
“Don't make me laugh, Toru. You don't care for the Valley, either. You just want to fight dh'oine and this is an opportunity.”  
“I'm fighting for my people to have a choice! To have a right to decide, where they want to live! But someone else's choice doesn't interest you, either. Does it?”  
Both women were looking at each other dangerously, but Carrie didn't reply. It was Isengrim, who spoke calmly:  
“I wanted you to come with us, but I understand. You did a lot for us and we have no right to ask you for more” – then he turned to her father asking: – “Holger, can we go?”  
“Obviously, Isengrim. And everyone is welcome to volunteer to go. Just remember, you are going as pirates, it's not an official act of war on our behalf.”  
“Agreed. Thank you.”

_Oh, I hate it... You can persuade me to do things not even trying..._

Everyone was waiting for her reaction now. Carrie closed her eyes. Then, she stated slowly and with irritation:  
“All right. You are fools, but I'm not going to your rescue again. I guess, that my limit for miracles has already been spent. I'm coming with you.”  
Upon hearing that, Toruviel blinked and grinned. Isengrim looked at her with a small smile and chuckled. The pirates started to rejoice and shout.

_My men want to fight with them. But why? Do they believe in this dream of freedom and equality? Do they believe, that it is worth fighting for? Or are they just ready for an adventure? A raid about which they may sing songs one day._

They were sitting and drinking in the hall, but she didn't speak much, still deep in her thoughts. She was considering all consequences of their decision and most of them were not too encouraging. After a short while, she took Isengrim's hand and they disappeared into her bedroom. At least some things were still easy.


	55. Ragnar Blathe 1271

Adagio

 

RAGNAR

 

Blathe 1271  
Harviken  
Faroe

He was sitting on the quay, looking at his captain checking the boats before sailing. He didn't know what, but something reminded him of the day when he spoke to her for the first time.

 

_Blathe 1255_  
_shore near Faroe_

_He looked down at the woman spread beneath him. Her hands and legs were tied to the deck of their boat, she was still screaming, but her scream was closer to a whiz by now. Some time later, he went to sit with his captain, Ture the Defiler, who moved to him with a handsome portion of fisstech:_  
_“You should take some more. It's turning you into a beast and I like it, Rag.”_  
_“Aye” – he replied and inhaled deeply._  
_As most of them fell asleep that night, a terrible storm came. They landed on Faroe... but in pieces. His legs were broken, as was his arm. When other members of the clan found them, he was barely alive._

_A month later, he was still lying in the bed. His captain, Ture the Defiler, came to him, but only to say:_  
_“I have no further use of you.”_  
_“What?”_  
_“You are no longer part of my crew, crippled oaf.”_

_This was it. He was no one, broken and handicapped, walking only with crutches. Raiding and sailing was the only thing he could do, without it, he could only jump from the Suicide Cliffs. He understood that even better two month later, looking at the fleet gathering in Harviken. As he saw some captains, he tried to speak to them but, upon seeing him, all just turned around._

_Useless... I am useless._

_He already started to walk in the direction of the cliffs. What have happened today was enough for him. But then, he stopped, as he heard a girl's voice:_  
_“What happened to you?”_  
_He turned around to see her: no more than fifteen-years-old, with red, curly hair and deep grey eyes. She looked intently at him and spoke with ordering voice._

_This is the jarl's daughter, I haven't seen her in years..._

_“Accident”._  
_“I see. Bones are wrongly healed.”_  
_“I know that.”_  
_“Come with me” – she said and started to walk towards the jarl's hall._  
_“What?!” – he exclaimed, but she paid him no mind._  
_He followed her, he didn't even know why, but he entered the hall, at last, to see her talking to Mousesack. As he walked in, the druid stated:_  
_“Let us see, maybe we can help you. What is your name?”_  
_“Ragnar from Trottheim.”_  
_“Oh... this is why I didn't know. You were sailing with Ture, weren't you?”_  
_“No more...”_  
_“Come, sit” – Mousesack motioned one of the chairs._

_The druid decided, that they may try to break his legs again and to fix them properly this time. The young girl was there the whole time. She thought about gagging him, before the whole procedure started and she held his head, while hot tears of pain were falling down his cheeks. And she never spoke a word. In the end, he faded away from the pain. He woke up in the druid's house many hours later, under his care. But she was gone._

_When she came back from the raid, in Savoine, he decided to approach her at once. By then, he could walk again, easily. He watched, as she descended from her boat, followed by a very young crew. As she saw him standing at the quay, she approached with a stern face:_  
_“I'm glad it worked.”_  
_“I want to sail with you, Carnelian.”_  
_She looked at him pensively, before stating:_  
_“Me and my crew, we sail for wealth and glory. We kill only if we must, we don't torture and I will never ever allow rape. I don't think, that there is a place for you among us.”_  
_“You gave me my life back. I will do anything. I will sail to the depths of hell and to Davy Jones' pit for you.”_  
_She looked at him again, but said in the end:_  
_“Prove it to me, first. Later, I'll decide.”_

 

Now, they were both in Harviken, fifteen years later. He was a different man, thanks to her. Not only he could sail throughout all these years, but also he was respected, admired. He was part of the famous Carnelian's crew... They were still pirates, true, but different kind of pirates. She never gave up her rules or her dreams of wealth and glory. But most importantly, whatever happened, she never gave up on her men. The worst day of his life turned out to be the beginning of a new, better one.


	56. Leif Birke 1271

LEIF

 

Birke 1271  
the Skelliger drakkar  
the Great Sea

They were sailing with a sunset behind their backs. Suddenly, everything turned red around them. The Sea... looked like a pool of blood. It was not a common view on the Great Sea, so even he admired it for a long time. As he looked at Carnelian, there was something strange in her eyes, some inexplicable fear. He was not the only one to notice that:  
“Carrie, are you all right?” – it was Isengrim, who sat next to her with questioning eyes.  
“Yes, Is... Obviously” – she answered not looking at Isengrim, but on Leif and it reminded him of the worst night in their lives so far: the night when they were too young and too foolish to understand anything.

 

_the night of Midinváerne 1260_  
_the Hanged Man Tree_  
_Sodden_

_They were sailing down the Yaruga river, planning to pillage some villages in Rivia and Lyria. Nothing too harmful, but still, enough to bring some spoils back to Faroe. They made a stop near Kagen, just to refill the supplies of water and food. On the shore, they met fishermen conversing in terrified whispers:_  
_“Yes, it was the Hunt.”_  
_“They took a boy, twelve-years-old.”_  
_“His parents are devastated.”_  
_“They were heading South, to the Hanged Man Tree.”_

_The whole crew listened to the conversation with interest. They heard about the Wraiths of Mörhogg, obviously, but..._  
_“Have you ever seen them?” – Carrie asked him with excitement._  
_“No...”_  
_“So we should!” – she exclaimed with mischief in her eyes._

_They all agreed quickly, left their drakkar and ventured South on foot. It was late Savoine, the next night was to be Midinváerne: the night of magic and ancient powers. It seemed possible, that it was the right night, so they moved as quickly as possible. On Midinváerne, about midnight they emerged from the forest to the clearing, where one lonely tree stood. But it wasn't lonely... Almost fifty men were gathered there. They wore black, skeleton-like armour, but some removed it, revealing crimson clothing and dark-grey hauberks._  
_Still, all of them wore masks and helmets. One, nearest to them, was busy executing the prisoners. As the blood splashed on his mask, he removed it to shake it off. This was when they saw it: a face, made of flesh and blood... a face of an elf. He looked cold and predatory, shaking the blood with disdain and contempt. He almost got back to his job, but he must have felt their gazes on him, so he turned to his left. His expression was one of surprise, as he noticed their presence and his eyes stopped at Carnelian. It lasted for a second, maybe two and they all froze. Leif kept cold blood and shouted:_  
_“Run!” – pushing Carrie to move._

 

This memory was still too vivid in his mind. It came to him sometimes in the night and sometimes during the day. Especially, since they've started to spend time with elves. He looked pensively at Isengrim and others, but spoke nothing.

_We decided never to speak of it to anyone and look at us now... surrounded by elves. But they are different. There is something sorrowful in their eyes and something warm in their faces. That elf was proud and blank. He looked like death itself, but... he was alive and real. Too real._


	57. Isengrim Blathe 1271

ISENGRIM

 

Blathe 1271  
White Bridge  
Temeria

They sailed up the Pontar river, as far as a few miles from White Bridge. The Skelliger and the Aen Seidhe left their boats and headed into the forest on the Southern riverbank. All the commanders became silent for a long time: they remembered what they felt the last time they were here and their mood was foul. To Isengrim's surprise, Carrie seemed to be infected by it, too. She was distant again... so distant, as she hasn't been in more than a year.  
Obviously, he tried to ask her about it, but she only answered:  
“I plan how to attain some horses. We need a lot of them, as you guess.”  
Or:  
“I wasn't a fan of this trip from the very beginning.”  
So he stopped asking. He stopped kissing her and touching her, as well. Not that he didn't want to, but... she always seemed busy somewhere else. He didn't push, but one time, already on the foothills of Mahakam, she kissed him chastely and ran away to take care of yet another something. He stood at the same spot for a while and sighed. It was then, as Yeavinn approached him:  
“Give her time. She will be back.”  
“But why, Yaevinn?” – Isengrim asked the younger Seidhe, looking him in the eyes.  
“Memories. We all have them” – Yeavinn answered mysteriously and left him, as well.

_What memories? Of whom? She's never spoken... What does it all mean?_

The same day, in the evening, it was Coinneach, who came to sit with him. Carrie was just singing a terribly depressing song they all knew. Isengrim tried to figure out: why? But there was no point. As Coinneach noticed his confusion, he said:  
“I heard her sing it for the first time on An Skellig, as you were...”  
“Useless.”  
“Injured. Then I thought... but now... there are things, which we don't know about the young captain.”  
“I know. It terrifies me sometimes.”  
“Yeah...”

But there was no time to think about it too much. They were moving in the direction of Vergen, avoiding any settlements and roads. The plan was simple: to arrive without any warning and to join the rebels in Vergen from the West.


	58. Ciaran Birke 1271

Vivo

 

CIARAN

 

Birke 1271  
Flotsam  
Temeria

He woke up hearing a soft splash of water falling from a waterfall to the pool. They fell asleep in the caves, again... Well, it wasn't the first time, when the commander's appetite exceeded his own, leaving them both satisfied, spent and exhausted.  
Iorveth was still asleep, lying next to him half-naked. As Ciaran sat up, he had a chance to admire his muscular and scarred body. He loved this man... But he also knew, that he would never feel the same for him. His heart was taken and frozen from the loss. Ciaran knew, that Iorveth cares for him, but... not enough.

_Maybe... someday..._

He moved to Iorveth's chest and woke him up gently. As his green eye flung open, Ciaran moved down, to unbutton his trousers and to take his length into his mouth. The commander only chuckled and stated, panting:  
“You are the best in the morning...”  
It didn't take long to bring him to his peak, as Ciaran could speak again he replied:  
“You are the fastest in the morning...”  
“Hmm... Let's see...” – Iorveth just smiled and pulled him to his body.

Maybe an hour later, they both got to the pool. As Ciaran was still swimming, Iorveth dressed up and sat by the tree, taking out his flute. Ciaran listened for a long time, before he got out of the pool and sat, still naked, next to him. As Iorveth finished, the younger Seidhe asked:  
“Stella Splendens... You like this tune, don't you?”  
“It reminds me of someone I met seven years ago, on this very day...” – the commander replied.  
“You loved her, didn't you? You never speak about her.”  
“I still do. And I hate myself.”  
“For what?”  
“I... allowed her to sacrifice herself for the commando. For the cause. I... it was the worst decision I've made in my entire life.”  
“She is dead... I'm so sorry...”  
“Don't be. It's not your fault, it's mine. And... she is probably in Valhalla right now, drinking and fucking anything and anyone she wants...”  
“Valhalla? She was a dh'oine? Skelliger?”  
“Yes. It wasn't an easy love, mind you. But this is why I loved her even more. This is why... I would never forget” – Iorveth stated looking at the waterfall.  
“What was she like?”  
“Margo...” – Iorveth started with a distant smile – “well... fierce, stubborn, excellent warrior and captain. Ruthless and ready to sacrifice everything. She was a Scoia'tael, a pirate version of a Scoia'tael... Do you remember the red-haired woman you wanted to kill and I stopped you?”  
“Yes, obviously. I didn't expect that... She...?”  
“From the distance... for a moment... I thought... This red, curly hair...” – Iorveth closed his eyes and took a breath with difficulty. – “But it was a fool's hope” – he paused before continuing: – “She saved my life, even from her grave...” – he looked at his bracelet for a long time. – “And I sold her for a cause. The cause, which turned out to be a lie...”

Then, he looked at Ciaran and kissed him gently. After a moment, the younger Seidhe dressed up and they both headed back to the camp.


	59. Saskia Feainn 1271

SASKIA

 

Feainn 1271  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

The battle was upon them. The foes almost uncountable... and Iorveth was gone.

_Will he come back in time?_

As the enemies started to climb their walls and the first gate was destroyed, the defenders were losing hope. Her speech didn't change much, but they were ready: to fight and to die. Just as the second attack was to begin, she heard something, from behind the enemies line, what caused her heart to beat faster again. At first, she heard the hoofs of hundred horses, a horn and then, female's cry:  
“Vrihedd! Adhart!”  
A hundred Seidhe riders clothed in black fell on the Kaedweni with force and speed of a thousand. The Kaedweni started to run in terror, screaming: Vrihedd Brigade! Run! The defenders gaped and started to ask each other:  
“Iorveth?”  
The fight was mostly happening outside the gates now, but some soldiers were still climbing the walls. Then, their question was answered. She saw the Scoia'tael arriving from the East, from the mountains. The arrows flew and she saw Iorveth himself.

_But if he is here, who is at the gates?_

For a moment, she glimpsed down to see a cloaked figure fighting and killing Henselt. This person was moving with ease, cutting their enemies one by one. As were all, who came to their aid. They fought with wrath and rage, like true Aen Seidhe: terrible in their anger, ruthless and efficient.

_The battle is over. We won!_


	60. Ciaran Feainn 1271

CIARAN

 

Feainn 1271  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

The Kaedweni were attacking relentlessly the gates in order to open them. He was fighting, however, his strength was not back yet. The beating he received at the barge, which almost killed him, now, caused pain in various parts of his body.  
Suddenly he fell, knowing, that this time nothing and no one can save him from dying. But... the soldier just moving to strike him fell to the ground and a figure knelt next to him, putting a hand on his chest and asking in a commanding, female voice:  
“Are you OK?”  
“Yes” – he answered in shock.  
“So, get up” – she stated and extended her hand, helping him up.  
The woman was shorter than him, too short for a Seidhe and wore hood and mask, hiding her face. Ciaran just stood, gaping at her, as he heard:  
“Captain! You got him, now come for a spoil!” – a male voice called her and she looked in its direction.

_Captain? Are you a pirate?_

But the woman have been already kneeling next to Henselt's body and removed his ring, putting it on her thumb and reached to his pockets.  
“I remember you” – he heard a voice from behind him.  
A voice, which he have been certain never to hear again - which caused him to turn around so fast, that he almost lost his balance. In front of him was a ghost, but looking very much alive. Ciaran asked in a shaking voice:  
“Coinneach Da Réo? Commander, you are alive?”  
“Ciaran aep Easnillien, right?”  
“Yes. I...”  
“Who is your commander?”  
“Iorveth. “  
“What?! Iorveth died at Brenna...”  
“He... was saved...”  
“Look what I have! This ring suits me, don't you think, fraere?”  
The voice of the woman, who saved him a moment ago, was coming from behind him, but she approached them quickly - showing a ring to Neach. She removed the hood and mask reviling her hair and face. Ciaran stared at her with wide eyes, breathing unevenly.

_Red, short and curly hair... Pirate and captain... may it be?_

“Margo?” – he asked in no more than a whisper.

She looked at him with tensed expression and dangerously cold eyes before she replied coldly:  
“Margaret, really, but everyone calls me Carnelian... No one called me Margo in many years...”  
“But you are her...”  
“Yes. How did you learn this name?”  
“From Iorveth.”  
As he said the name of his commander, she paled and tensed even more. No one spoke for a long time and she looked, as if she was ready to kill him. But, as she spoke, her voice was cold as ice:  
“It must have been many years ago...” – after she spoke, she turned around and started to walk, but Ciaran called after her:  
“Two months ago.”  
“What?!” – she turned back and exclaimed. – “What did you say?!”  
“He thinks, that you are dead, too. But... he never let you go” – as he said the last sentence... Margo gaped and hid her mouth behind her hands, looking at him in horror.

They stood like that for a long time, looking at each other from the distance in shock. It was Coinneach, still standing next to him, who broke the silence in a stern voice:  
“Carrie, please tell me, that I understood this boy wrong. Please tell me, that it isn't true... Carrie!”  
“I... Gods...” – she answered lowering her eyes to the ground.

Now, it was Neach's turn to hid his face behind his hands. But soon, he spoke:  
“We must find them before they kill each other because of you.”  
Margo just looked at him, nodded and they both ran to the city.


	61. Iorveth Feainn 1271

Andantino

 

IORVETH

 

Feainn 1271  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

Standing on the roof of one of the buildings in Vergen, he still couldn't believe, what he was seeing: at least a hundred Aen Seidhe fighting at the gates and in the city.

_Where did they come from? Who are they?_

His Scoia'tael just shot the last wave of arrows and there was no one left to kill. He jumped down and walked in the direction of the newcomers, as he heard the voice, which made him almost jump. About a dozen of steps to his left he saw a man, whom he believed to be long gone. The man noticed him too, gaped and turned to face him with wide eyes before both started to run to each other. As they hugged, the man whispered in disbelieve:  
“Iorveth!”  
“Isengrim! How?!” – he asked, as they separated.  
“A long story, fraere. We were saved and now we got help to come to your aid. You are the commander of the Scoia'tael fighting here! I can't believe...”  
“You got help? From whom?”  
“Carrie. She is... the best thing, which could have happened to us. To me. I...” – Isengrim grinned so widely, that even his scar seemed to smile.  
“Well, well” – Iorveth stated also smiling and mocking his friend – “you are fucking her.”  
“Well... when you see her, you'll understand. However, she is a Skelliger.”  
“A dh'oine. My friend... I would never suspect you of all the Aen Seidhe I know.”  
“She is different.”  
“Mind to share then?” – Iorveth smirked, as he asked.  
“Not this time, fraere” – Isengrim replied looking at the younger Seidhe intently.  
“Wow... I remember as we spoke a decade ago about... possessiveness.”  
“Things have changed."  
“I know. I get it, fraere. No fucking, then” – Iorveth replied with a smile.  
“And you? What did I miss?” – the older Seidhe asked with a mischievous smile.  
“Fighting, killing, almost a war, but you got just in time. As to... I should have told you something a long time ago, but... At first, I was sure you'll disapprove. Then... I didn't care. She was the one thing I did for myself... but it was a long time ago and it's a long story. It is not a time for that...”  
“I am so sorry, fraere” – Isengrim stated and put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with sadness, understanding at once, what had happened.  
“But you are alive! At least one miracle happened!” – the younger commander exclaimed happily.  
“Isengrim!” – a male voice called the other Seidhe and they both turned to face him.

He was a dh'oine, but tall and strong-build, with greyish hair and beard. His skin was dried from wind and sun.

_He is a Skelliger, for sure..._

“Vilmar!” – Isengrim called back. – “Is everything done?”  
“Yes. Carrie is just taking the king's ring from Henselt's dead corpse. And she didn't want to come... Now, she would sing differently and I'm sure, that you will like this song” – all chuckled at this comment.  
The man looked at him and Isengrim introduced them:  
“Vilmar, this is Iorveth. Iorveth, this is Vilmar of the clan Dimun.”  
“Another officer? The one, you believed to be dead?” – Vilmar asked cautiously, as if he was thinking hard about something.  
“The same” – Iorveth replied and extended his hand.

The Skelliger shook it, but to Iorveth's surprise, he tilted it up and looked in shock at the bracelet. Then, Vilmar looked deep in his eye and after a while of hesitation, he asked in a quiet voice:  
“How did you get it?”  
“It was a gift. A gift, which saved my life at Brenna. Do you recognise it?”  
The man didn't answer right away, but was looking from him to Isengrim and back again with a very concerned expression.  
“Did you know her?” – Iorveth asked again, this time feeling his heart clenching painfully and his voice had a desperate tune to it. – “I... why are you silent?”  
“I...” – the man started to speak, but trailed off as he saw something behind Iorveth. Then, he said: – “Just turn around.”

He looked at the man in disbelieve at first, but turned. And he saw someone, who took his breath away. There she stood: her hair was a little bit longer than he remembered. She was all in black with her double swords at her back. Her grey eyes were looking at him in disbelieve, too. He saw her chest moving quickly and unevenly. The time stopped.

_She is alive! She is... oh... She is alive._

They started to run into each other's arms at the same time. As he caught her, he felt one teardrop falling down his cheek. He just couldn't believe, that she was real. He hugged her and lifted her up, clinging to her as if his life depended on it. Soon, their lips found each other and they just stood there, kissing passionately, hungrily, violently, oblivious to the rest of the world. It could be minutes, hours, he couldn't tell how long he was inhaling her scent and tasting her mouth. Every inch of his body reacted to her instantly and she leaned to him, like she had always done, as if their bodies always knew the way to each other. It felt like nothing has changed, despite the five years, which passed since they've seen each other for the last time. But... she separated from him and cupped his face, looking deep in his eye. Her expression was tense and sad, as she spoke:  
“I thought, that you are dead. I was searching for you for a year. I... I hoped for so long, but in the end... I believed, that I lost you. We... Forgive us” – and she turned around, disappearing in the crowd.

He stood at the same spot, dumbfounded, looking in the direction, where she just disappeared. His thoughts were whirling. He was trying to wrap his mind around everything what he just saw, felt and heard. But he understood more, as he turned to look at Isengrim. His expression was one of utter shock, horror and sadness. Iorveth started to walk towards him, shouting in rage, as he was approaching:  
“Is that her?! Did you fuck her, Isengrim?!”

It's hard to tell, what would have happened, if Yeavinn hadn't caught him from behind, accompanied by Coinneach and Lóegairen. He couldn't move, so he just screamed:  
“Isengrim! Answer me!”  
“I didn't know” – was the shaking reply of the older Seidhe – “she never told me and neither did you. I would never...” – he trailed off, closing his eyes.  
“Fuck you, Isengrim! Fuck all of you! You left me at Brenna! And now this?!”  
“We thought, that you died” – Yeavinn said to his ear. – “We...”  
“You moved on quite quickly, then! Bastards! Get away from me, now! I can't look at any of you!” – he shouted with contempt and they realised him.

He didn't even spare any of them a glance, before disappearing into the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max Richter „On the Nature of Daylight”


	62. Isengrim Feainn 1271

ISENGRIM

 

Feainn 1271  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

He wasn't surprised to find her at the harbour. She was standing alone, looking at the horizon. He approached her slowly, but she didn't notice his presence, so he spoke:  
“Carrie...”  
She turned around to look at him. Her face was expressionless, however, he noticed, that her eyes were slightly swollen. She replied in a whisper:  
“I am so sorry Isengrim... I would never... if I knew...”  
“You never told me, that you were together. I would never...”  
“I know.”  
“So you hid it on purpose. You used me.”  
“No more, than you used me, Isengrim. We needed each other. We were both crushed by everything what had happened, what we lost. We needed it.”  
“But not like that. It's just an excuse...”  
“Don't. You started it, you came to me, remember? And then, you wanted more. You saw it in my eyes, that there was someone else, I know you did. Still, you came and you stayed, you helped me to forget. I warned you, that you would regret. We couldn't know... But, I won't be the only one responsible for what have happened.”  
“I had the right to know. To make this decision” – he paused and remembered something: – “Toru... is this, what she meant before we left Harviken?”  
“Yes. She was in Iorveth's commando when we've met. She knew. As we met in Brokilon two years ago and later, when they arrived in Harviken... we've spoken about it. But she understood and said nothing to you. It should have been him to tell you that. As I learned, that no one of you knew I thought... I thought, that he planned to sell me to the Nilfgaardians from the very beginning. That he betrayed me and I was a fool... but today... I know, that I was wrong.”  
“What?! He did what?!”  
“I... we...” – she closed her eyes – “as Trygve - my eldest brother - was murdered, I killed the Nilfgaardian spy responsible for his death and I found a location of the commando working for them. I got there the following year to find Iorveth, the man I left two years prior, because of my brother's death... I forgot about everything and we stayed. I... I wanted to stay for good, but one of the Seidhe from his commando... she was obsessed. She gave me this scar" – she motioned to her cheek – "and she tipped Nilfgaardians, that the assassin, whom they were looking for, was caught by her commando. As she told us, they were hours from our location, there was nothing that could have been done. So... I told Iorveth to sell me out and so he did. I was lucky, that my crew was able to get me out. Then, I thought, that it was the hardest decision of his life. But as I learned, that he never even told you about my existence... I... started to doubt everything I knew.”  
“Gods...” – he sighed, closing his eyes.  
“Isengrim, it's not your fault. We did it, me and him. I don't know why he...”  
“Because he loves you” – he stated blankly and she looked at him with uncertainty – “he didn't tell me, because he didn't care about my opinion. He made his choice and nothing could change that. He probably would tell me at some point, but... we were fighting in the war and then, we've separated.”

There was a long pause before she spoke in a shaking voice:  
“I told you. My gods are cruel... Why did you play us so ruthlessly? Is it for your amusement?!” – she shouted into the sky.  
“Carrie...”  
“I'm sorry Is... I've never wanted to hurt you. I do care for you, greatly, but...”  
“You love him. Always have... I see it now.”

They heard footsteps and saw Ciaran approaching them with hesitation. He spoke slowly:  
“Iorveth is leaving with Gwynbleidd to Loc Muinne. There is something wrong with Saskia... but... he is still raging. I thought, that...”  
“One of us should go” – Carrie stated in a voice stripped of emotions. – “You go, Is. He is like a brother to you. I know how hard it was. Don't lose him again.”  
“But...”  
“No buts. Just go” – she stated and turned around again.

He glimpsed at Ciaran, who looked at Carrie and nodded, approaching her slowly. Isengrim stared for a long time at the back of her head and the red curls moving in the wind.

_I should have never fallen in love with you. I should have known, that you have a dark secret. I knew... but I ignored it... I hoped, that one day... Now, it doesn't matter anymore. It would never be. Just as I thought, that we had it all. We started to take more. We crossed the borderlines. Oh... listen to us now..._


	63. Margo Feainn 1271

MARGO

 

Feainn 1271  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

She heard Isengrim's footsteps. He was leaving.

_I am alone. And I deserved it._

As she realised it, she sat down and started to sob quietly, sure, that she was alone. But after she calmed down a bit, she felt someone's gaze on her back. She didn't turn around, just stated, struggling to stop her sobs:  
“You are still there, aren't you?”  
“Yes.”  
“I thought, that I'm alone.”  
“Obviously.”  
“You could leave. You should have had.”  
“Isengrim asked me to watch over you. So I did.”  
“He didn't deserve that...” – Margo stated with pain, speaking to no one really. – “It's my fault.”  
“No, he didn't. But then... you are exactly the same, aren't you?” – Ciaran spoke with surprise in his voice. But there was disdain in it, too. Disdain strong enough to make her turn around and look at him.

As she observed this young Seidhe, probably her age, she saw incredible pain in his big, mahogany eyes. He was handsome, extremely handsome and this pain only added to his beauty. Then, she understood: Iorveth.

_Everything seems to be about him today. The centre of the world. As he cools down, he will love it._

At first, she chuckled to her own thoughts. Then, she turned again to look ahead at the river and spoke calmly:  
“If you want to kill me, just slit my throat from behind and throw my body to the river. We are alone here, no one will find out.”  
“Why would I?”  
“The last Seidhe, who realised, that I'm standing between her and Iorveth, came very close.”  
“I promised.”  
“Ah... Is wouldn't care too much, I guess. It would probably be easier.”  
“I wouldn't do this to him.”  
“Iorveth? Oh... then, you are a fool.”

They were silent for a long while, but Ciaran said pensively in the end:  
“You are a storm, aren't you? Iorveth... he is a hurricane, but you... You bring a full-scale storm.”  
“Interesting” – she said chuckling. – “And Isengrim?”  
“Deluge...”  
“And you?”  
“I'm not one of the great commanders.”  
“And I am?” – she asked surprised. – “A dh'oine?”  
“You saved them. I heard the story. It's an extraordinary tale. And Iorveth called you a pirate Scoia'tael before he knew... Yes. You are, Margo.”  
“You're too kind. But... maybe you are right. Maybe I was a fool to believe, that it may be differently. Maybe I forgot, that leading men means to be alone. I'll leave... to figure it out again. You know... before I met him, I thought, that I had it figured out. I never meant to get us in this deep.”  
“And you never meant for this to mean a thing... Are you quoting songs to convince me or yourself?” – he asked mockingly.  
She looked at him again and started to laugh, hard and long. When she finished, she panted:  
“Now, I understand. You are to him what my Ronja is to me, I was on a verge of fucking her many times, but... she is too straight for that. Still, I can see it in your eyes, I can hear as you speak about him. It is much more for you. You've fallen in love with him.”

As she looked at him pensively, he avoided her eyes. Still, she felt his sadness, deep and ripping apart, just like hers. This feeling of void overwhelmed her again, she gasped for breath, feeling as if something was taking it away. But she calmed down quickly to say:  
“Don't worry. I'll leave and he can hate me as hard as he wants. He is yours and you know it already.”  
“If you leave, there will be no coming back.”  
“You suggest, that now it is me, who deserves a love triangle?” – she looked him deep in the eyes and chuckled softly. – “Oh... he would love it, as narcissistic as he is. He would relish every second of it, even if only to punish me... But I'm the daughter of the jarl, captain of the Skelliger pirates. I can't.”  
“Don't leave.”  
“I guess, that you liked me better dead: just some distant memory, which will dissolve one day... Why did you say that?”  
“We lost so much... He may be furious right now, but soon he'll see, that it wasn't really your fault, either. It was his. And he will hate himself again, but he won't go after you. He is too proud and too hurt for that.”  
“I hope, that he knows, what he has... You are a much better person, that we are both combined, Ciaran. I didn't realise it before I spoke with you today... We both use people, even if we care for them and for our ambitions we sold our souls and hearts to the devil a long time ago. He called me a Scoia'tael? Well, I can call him a pirate easily: he is driven by the same greed, constant need for more and faster, as we are. In comparison, you Ciaran, you're almost innocent” – she stated, got up and walked back to the city.

As she walked back to the city her feet seemed to become heavier and heavier with every step she took. She knew, that Isengrim and Iorveth wouldn't be there, but other commanders would. She would need to tell her story again. It would be hard, but not the hardest. The hardest was shame. She was ashamed, that she didn't wait a little bit longer. But she couldn't have known... They were all certain, that he died. So how did he survive?  
Then, she remembered the prophesy and Isengrim's trial. Gods were giving them hints for all this time. For all this time, they were trying to show them, that they are blind and foolish. That the Dead is not really gone yet. They should have listened more carefully. Still, as they arrived on Faroe the harm was already done. But maybe... maybe it would be easier to justify a one-night-stand, than a year and a half of a relationship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Civil Wars „The One That Got Away”


	64. Geralt Feainn 1271

GERALT

 

Feainn 1271  
forest near Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

They made a stop at the clearing deep in the forest. They were riding for three hours and were both exhausted from the battle, they had been fighting in the same day. The dusk was upon them and it was a really long day. Iorveth was usually tense and agitated but today... well... today he was livid. The moment he got down from his horse, he started to pace, swearing under his nose. He wanted to punch something or even better: kill someone. That was obvious. Geralt decided, that it cannot look like that:  
“Iorveth? What did I miss? Why are you pacing?”  
“This bastard and this whore... I...” – the Seidhe huffed.  
“Iorveth... use words... I can't understand you, if you only make noises.”  
“She came back, alive, with Isengrim! Can you imagine?”  
“Iorveth... Who?”  
“Margo! Oh... you don't know...”  
“Margaret? Right... I didn't remember... you were together...”  
“How did you know?” – the Seidhe asked confused.  
“I may have stolen her from your bed back in 1264 when her brother died...”  
“What?!” - the Seidhe exclaimed deeply shocked.  
“Yeah... Trygve - her eldest brother, the heir to the seat of clan Dimun - was murdered. She needed to go back home. Then, obviously, she found the assassin and he regretted, that he was born...”  
“Eilert... the assassination in 1265...” – Iorveth trailed off.  
“Yes. The same.”  
“She never told me... She is the daughter of Holger Blackhand? Now it all makes sense... Margo is the short version of Margaret and... Carrie of Carnelian: legendary Skelliger pirate, who almost destroyed Nilfgaardian fleet... Fuck! No wonder she never told me.”  
“But how did she end up with Isengrim Faoiltiarna? Unless...”  
“What?”  
“How the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade were saved? Why are they now travelling with Skelliger?”  
“I... didn't have mind to ask. You think...? You think, that she came... for me?” – even more confusion crept on the Seidhe's face.  
“They must have learned about the Peace Treaty, Skelliger were fighting on the Nordlings' side...”  
“She said... that she was looking for me for a year” – Iorveth paused before stating: – “I spent more than a year hidden by Jon Natalis in his cottage. If they left for Skellige in 1269...”  
“There was no way for her to find you. And she couldn't stay longer on the Continent with, officially dead, officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, could she?”  
“But still... how would you feel, if Yennefer fucked Lambert?”  
“Not happy, probably livid. But... they thought you were dead. Is it so terrible, that they tried to move on? And Iorveth... don't be a hypocrite... Ciaran. How would you call it?”  
“You think, that I would care, if she fucked a hundred women during these years? Even some anonymous dh'oine...?”  
“So it's about him. Did you tell him about her? Did he know?”  
“He claims, that he didn't. I... I didn't...”  
“Oh...” – Geralt paused and chuckled darkly – “so he is the victim here, truly. Of both of you. Your game, which included more and more people over the years. You are a player, Iorveth and so is she. You deserve one another. And probably, you would do other people a favour, if you stick to playing together, not involving the innocents in whatever your egoistic selves want...” – Geralt stated calmly, shaking his head.  
“So we're back to square one. She is a whore” – Iorveth stated in an angry voice.  
“Don't call her like that, fraere” – as Geralt turned around, he saw Isengrim coming slowly in their direction, with a mocking smirk – “I doubt, that you ever had to pay...”

For a moment, dead silence fell. Geralt stood between both Seidhe, ready to stop them from fighting. But they just stood, motionless, looking at each other. Isengrim was still smirking and then: Iorveth started to laugh. He laughed so hard, that he even sat down. As he calmed down, he looked at the older Seidhe and stated:  
“I hate you, fraere.”  
“I know” – the other replied.  
“But if we focus on hating her, we may survive it...”  
“I guessed as much.”  
“Do you have it in you? To hate her?”  
“I will never hate her, Iorveth and I will always care for her. Just differently. But you... you are going from one extreme to another. I accepted that a long time ago: you were always four seasons in one. But... I doubt, that you hate her, either.”  
“Oh... but I do. With all my heart.”

As Iorveth whispered the last sentence, Geralt knew, that he said it, but meant something completely different.  
After a moment of silence Geralt looked at the older Seidhe again:  
“I don't think we've met.”  
“Oh... thankfully. I saw, what you can do on Thanedd.”  
“It was your commando... Ciri was terrified after that.”  
“I suspected. I'm sorry, we were just following orders.”  
“I know. Geralt” – he stated extending his hand.  
“Isengrim” – the other man shook it.

_Well... this is going to be a very interesting journey..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcin Przybyłowicz, Mikołaj Stroiński „Go for it”


	65. Isengrim Lammas 1271

ISENGRIM

 

Lammas 1271  
near Vergen  
the Free Pontar Valley

The meeting in Loc Muinne was... disastrous... that was a simple truth. Saskia turning into a dragon, Radovid swallowing Temeria... Nilfgaard meddling in the destruction of the sorceresses. Everything, what could go wrong, went wrong. Now, they were standing in front of the main gates of the city, they had fought for only a month ago and it was quiet. Terribly quiet.  
“Something happened” – Saskia whispered at once.  
“Maybe... maybe not. Come inside, we'll see” – Iorveth tried to calm her down.  
All four of them entered through the main gates. Then, they heard the crowd shouting on the square in front of the Castle of Three Fathers. They approached slowly and stopped to stand in the crowd. They heard the screams of dwarfs, Seidhe and dh'oine:  
“But she is a dragon, how can we trust her?”  
“She may turn into a monster any minute.”  
“It is dangerous. I've always known it was a bad idea to follow this woman.....”  
“Oh! Shut up, dwarf.”  
“What did you say, elf?!”  
“EVERYONE! SILENCE!” – he first heard and then saw Carrie standing on a little wall, next to her stood Ciaran and Skelen Burdon. As it became quiet, she took a deep breath and started:  
“I know, that the news, which we got yesterday, is ambivalent. But, instead of thinking, what you plan to do with Emhyr var Emreis nearing from the South and Radovid coming for you from the West, you are quarrelling over the least important thing. Yes, your Saskia is a dragon, but I would be more concerned about her being a virgin, I mean... well...” – Carrie spoke in a strong voice and, at the last comment, the crowd laughed.  
“Still, you have your own dragon to defend the city. You think, that anyone would attack you so lightly as Henselt tried? No. Obviously not. I know, that I am a pirate and I am an opportunist, but seriously: am I the only one to think about the advantages of this situation?!” – as she paused no one spoke, some started to nod their heads in approval.  
“Additionally, for land of unicorns shitting with rainbow” – some chuckles came from the crowd again – “you are prejudiced as far as it goes. You thought, that you'll call it a land of freedom and it'll happen, as by a flicker of the magical wand? No. Freedom means work, every-day's work. You know, at Skellige, I was called a bitch more times than I can remember... But bringing race into this? What is wrong with you people? Do you lack imagination in calling names? Since when using words like “dwarf” or “elf” or “dh'oine” leads to peace?” – she paused for a long while, before continuing: – “I know, that the three of us, we are not the ones you want to hear now... but as you remember: the grown-ups left us to go to the peace conference and the grown-ups, who stayed to act as a council, almost killed each other. So, you were left with us and surprisingly, we turned out to be the least irritating peacekeepers for most of you” – more approving nods came from the crowd and it was still silent.  
“We managed to start mining again” – she continued.  
“Yeah!” – came from the crowd.  
“And we worked out the problem of forges.”  
“Yeah!”  
“And most importantly: no one died” – she started to chuckle and all followed. – “Maybe we proved, that as friends, we can be better: we can go beyond. Or maybe you are just bored with my speeches almost every day” – the crowd laughed again – “but, it worked. Now, Saskia will come back and she will need your help, your support and above all - your unity! We can do better than this. And dragon or not, you need her: the only one you all agreed to follow. She gave you the victory and she will give you lives you dreamt of just... work with her. Will you do it?”  
“Yeah!” – the crowd shouted enthusiastically.  
“I'm not sure, how she survived all of you and didn't end up as a drunk or well... not a virgin” – the crowd laughed again. – “She is either crazy or saint, or both. But, she deserves more than this pettiness.”  
“Saskia!” – the crowd shouted again.

Isengrim was dumbfounded, he looked at equally shocked Saskia, Geralt and Iorveth. As they moved towards the three young people, they noticed, that they were first talking with some dwarfs, then with Scoia'tael and then with dh'oine. As they were finished, Yarpen and Zoltan approached them and they heard Zoltan's voice:  
“You worked it out, again, lads.”  
“How the fuck did we end up as peacekeepers, Ciaran? I mean...” – Carrie said shaking her head.  
“It started with a pirate and a dwarf” – he answered chuckling.  
“Funny... really funny. Of my pirates only Ragnar stayed here, the rest fled with the commanders. They left us with this mess... I can't believe... Skelen, I admire your persistence. You are doing it all the time” – she added.  
“Yeah... but with so many Seidhe and humans... it would be much harder on my own.”  
“Tequila time?” – Ciaran asked looking at Carrie mischievously.  
“It is afternoon, Ciaran. Are you sure, that our livers will survive it?”  
“This or sparring. But I cannot move my hand after yesterday...”  
“You two... you have issues” – Yarpen stated and all laughed.  
“Well, our first favourite pass-time turned into a disaster, so we are relishing the second and the third... Come, we are going to the Cauldron” – Carrie said chuckling. – “Or to the succubus...” – all of her companions joined her, laughing hard on their way.

To say, that he was surprised... well, they just followed them silently to the inn. By now, curious about what would happen next. All five of the group they were following, sat at the counter and Geralt motioned to a table close to it.  
“Two tequilas and three spirits” – Zoltan ordered.  
Carrie and Ciaran licked the salt, drunk tequila and ate the lemons. Rest just drunk the spirit. Afterwards, they were sitting silently for a while.  
“What do you think your father would say?” – Ciaran asked Margo.  
“About?” – she asked looking at him.  
“The whole... situation.”  
“Thankfully, I have an older brother. I can be the irresponsible one and no one is telling me to settle down any more, so... You know, he accepted the fact, that I refused to marry the king's son. He'll survive a lot... Another round?”  
“Yeah...”  
They all drunk again.  
“You know, all three of you: you did an incredible job here” – Yarpen stated, nodding.  
“Yeah... and it's all because of Ciaran's stupid advice and Skelen's stupid sense of duty...” – Carrie stated.  
“My advice was stupid? Do you remember yours?”  
“Oh... Well... but it seemed like a good idea by then” – all were laughing heartedly, as Carrie said that.

Then, Skelen turned around and noticed them. After a while, he said in a concerned voice:  
“I see trouble...”  
“What?” – Ciaran asked and turned, too. He was followed by Carrie, who raised her eyebrows at them. Only Yarpen and Zoltan seemed to be happy to see them:  
“Geralt! Saskia! Iorveth and Isengrim! You are back!”  
The three young people were already standing, but had cold expressions. After a while, Carrie stated smiling widely:  
“Saskia! We are truly happy, that you are back! I wish you all the luck in the world with this mess! But now... we'll leave you with Skelen. There is much you need to talk about” – she said that, looked at the innkeeper, who was busy on the other end of the counter. Then, she bent and stole the bottle of tequila, looked at Ciaran, who was already laughing and they both left the inn.

_What did just happen?!_

He was looking in disbelieve at the door when Toruviel entered and came to them with a grin:  
“Iorveth! Isengrim! Great to see you!”  
“Toru... I just...” – Iorveth spoke. Isengrim decided to patiently listen to the conversion.  
“They told me, that you came.”  
“They?”  
“Carrie and Ciaran, they went to drink at home.”  
“Home? What are you...?”  
“Well... he refused to sleep in your bed, so...”  
“So what, Toru? Is she...? Are they...?”  
“What? Hmm?”  
“Toru...?!”  
“No. You know, that he's not interested in her like that...”  
“Many things I thought I knew have changed, saere...”  
“She has a few bedrooms. You know... as the daughter of the important jarl, she got a big house to stay in. Did you work it out?” – Toru looked at him and then back at Iorveth.  
“Yes. But... it's not the welcome we expected.”  
“What did you expect, then? Did you honestly think, that whatever you worked out with Isengrim, is the only thing that matters? Which of them did you expect to wait patiently for your return in your bed?”  
“Well...”  
“You are an idiot.”  
“But it looks like they didn't wait at all.”  
“They didn't. You back to square one and truly... you deserved it. You could have prevented all of this a long time ago...”  
“I heard it, Toru. I... know. She is not a saint, though...”  
“No, she's not. But if you think, that she will allow you to punish her, you are wrong. She won't. So... think twice before you'll do anything.”  
“Are they always like that?” – Isengrim decided to change the subject.  
“Like what?”  
“Like children running wild?”  
“You left us with a mess. The city was a mess, everyone started to quarrel with everyone. There was a hundred things to do... They stood up, worked things out and we managed... Don't you dare to call them children” – Toru stated and looked at the rest of the persons sitting by their table, who stopped the conversation, hearing her angry voice. She continued: – “It goes to all of you. You acted like children yourselves, running away. Solving whatever emotional problems you had, like it was the most important thing in the world. They stayed. And you, Iorveth... Ciaran deserves better.”

_Well... we were just scolded..._


	66. Iorveth Lammas 1271

IORVETH

 

Lammas 1271  
Vergen  
the Free Pontar Valley

Yesterday he went to sleep alone, in a very quiet house. He was so used to sleeping in the camps or at least, with someone in his bed, that this was something new and he didn't like it at all. It was such a strange experience, that he couldn't fall asleep for a long time. Instead, he was staring at the ceiling. It wasn't the best night of his life.  
In the morning, he decided to speak to Ciaran first. Thankfully, he found him alone at the Rhundurin Square. The conversation... went as expected. After all, the younger Seidhe knew much about him already...  
His search for Margo took much longer. She seemed to disappear from the city. So, in the late afternoon, he went to the harbour. She was sitting to the left from the quays, on the riverbank, smoking pipe leisurely and looking at the river. As he approached, she turned to look at him for a moment, but then stared ahead again. He sat next to her and she spoke:  
“We are leaving in three days.”  
“I know. Ciaran told me. He will sail with Ragnar and Isengrim” – he replied.  
“I see” – she replied calmly, but looked at him questioningly.  
“I will sail with you.”  
“OK.”

They sat in silence for a long time. He lost his patience and stated:  
“I don't know how to talk about it.”  
“Me neither” – she paused. – “Maybe we shouldn't? Not yet, at least...”

_Probably never... I imagined this conversation many times, very vividly and it never goes well..._

He touched her back gently and she closed her eyes, before she chuckled and said:  
“Well, not here... and not at my place, definitely.”  
“My house is empty, terribly empty...” – he said looking her in the eyes and she stood up to follow him back to the city.

Until he closed the door, they didn't speak or touch at all.

_The silence was strange... but in these circumstances..._

Upon hearing the lock, she turned around and he saw her eyes. They were uncertain, but hungry; almost shy, but filled with the greed he adored in her. Seeing her like that, he didn't hesitate for a moment and approached her quickly to undress her. They removed various pieces of their clothing frantically, both yearning to close the distance between them. He didn't even think about the bed. Instead, he just lifted her up and pushed her against the wall, but didn't enter her, even though, he felt how easily he was brushing against her womanhood. He teased her for a long time, making her pant and moan beautifully. As she looked at him questioningly, he just smirked. When she was already panting loudly, he entered her slowly. She came the moment he was covered inside her, trembling violently. Then, he smirked again and started to move inside her. He looked in her foggy eyes and realised, that she is observing him with a smile. He didn't hurry, changing his rhythm and strength of his thrusts. She... decided to chase her own pleasure again and sneaked her hand between them, what made him chuckle lightly. Just as he was on the edge, she came again, with yet another charming moan.  
His arms were aching by now, but he still lifted her and moved them both to the room, lying her on the table. Then, he looked at her spread body and smiled. He kissed his way down, through her breasts, nipples, stomach, kneeling at the end and taking her clitoris into his mouth. She reacted at once, arching violently. He tilted her hips to have a better position and kept her in place, only to feel, after some time, as she was twitching, her body trying to free itself from his grab. But he didn't allow it, bringing her to yet another peak. As he moved up, she looked dazed and breathed heavily. He observed her from above for a while, as she gathered herself. After a moment, she encircled his waist with her legs and pulled him closer. He grabbed her sides and once more pushed inside her. He moved slowly, lazily. She tried to move, obviously, but he didn't let her. She bit her lip, but let go and put her arms, with an almost bored expression, behind her head. One of his hands moved to her clitoris, but he barely moved it. The mere stimulation was enough for her. This time, they came together, however, her moan was half-surprised and half-satisfied. After he slid out of her, she was still panting and laid on the table motionless. As he went to find the wine and two glasses, she sat up but didn't move from the table. Soon he approached her and sat on a chair next to it. She drunk the first glass and he poured her the second. Then, she spoke with a hoarse voice:  
“My every muscle aches...”  
“I haven't finished yet” – he replied smiling widely.  
“What?” – she asked shocked, but laughed a moment later.  
“You heard me.”  
“I can't... come on!”  
“We will see.”  
“You are crazy...”  
“That is certain” – as he replied, they both laughed hard.

He was watching her intently and gently traced her skin with his fingers. She just watched him with a soft smile on her lips. After a moment she asked:  
“You will fuck me until I fall asleep, won't you?”  
“Yes.”  
“So come to bed.”  
“Funny.”  
“No, practical.”  
“Charming. Really charming...” – he said mockingly but was laughing heartedly again, soon.

She tried to stand up but he, obviously, prevented it moving her body to his chair and pulling her on him. She slid and sat on his lap, shaking her head and smirking. It was her turn to tease them both, as she started to brush her womanhood against his length. Soon, she sheathed him and resumed her movements. This third time took them a while longer. But he observed yet another of her climaxes tonight with a smirk. Afterwards, she rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed all of her muscles. Still, her body was trembling and she just whispered in his ear:  
“Now, bed. Or you will need to carry me there.”  
“OK.”

She got under covers first, but he followed her shorty. Then, she faced him and asked in a mocking voice:  
“Abstinence on the road from Loc Muinne? Or anger, hmm?”  
“Both?”  
“I see...” – she nodded but moved closer to kiss him for the first time tonight.

It was a strange sensation. Like he could make love to her countless times, but still... the simple kiss gave them true intimacy. Only now he felt it: warmth, closeness and devotion. After a long time, she separated and moved slightly to nestle herself in his embrace. She fell asleep almost instantly but he was observing her for a while longer.

_Of all women and men on this Continent, I had the misfortune to fall in love with this one..._

Still, he smiled.


	67. Margo Velen 1271

MARGO

 

Velen 1271  
the Skelliger drakkar  
the Great Sea

The weather was incredibly sunny for autumn and a strong wind pushed them fast to the West. They were already no more than two days from Harviken, when they went to sleep last night.  
She woke up on the berth in her captain's cabin, in a tight embrace of the Seidhe sleeping next to her. She smiled and turned around as gently as she could to look at him. The scar... terrible souvenir from Brenna, has changed him. But strangely, she understood him better now. She cared for him even more.

_Maybe because I've lost him twice already..._

She was watching him for a while, before leaning closer to kiss him and to wake him up, too. He tensed, but relaxed momentarily and smiled to their kiss. As they separated, he said:  
“This is a good morning.”  
“Yes. Yes, it is.”  
“I still cannot believe, that you are real.”  
“Hmm... I cannot believe, that I found you, again. And Jon... how lucky you were that day?”  
“Despite losing an eye, you mean?”  
“I still think... I saved Jon the same month I met you... it's like...”  
“Our fates were woven together...”  
“What did you say?” – she asked in a harsh voice now.  
“Margo?”  
“The prophecy...”  
“What? Ah... the old woman in Harviken... What about it?”  
“She said: _What was left behind, will once be found, the fates ere woven are still close bound._ ”  
“Well... it sounds plausible, but... the prophesies are always like that...”  
“Ragh nar Roog...” – she stated pensively, looking at the wall.  
“What? Margo...”  
“I saw it, Iorveth. It's real and it's not what we thought it would be...”  
“What?! What are you saying?”

But she just looked at him with fear and didn't answer. From the outside, they heard gathering storm.


	68. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.

 

THE SKELLIGER TALES

 

Part III

 

STORM

 

_From the east comes Hrym with shield held high;_  
_In giant-wrath does the serpent writhe;_  
_O'er the waves he twists, and the tawny eagle_  
_Gnaws corpses screaming; Naglfar is loose._

~ Poetic Edda Völuspá


	69. Iorveth Savione 1272

Allegretto

 

IORVETH

 

Savione 1272  
Harviken  
Faroe

_On the sea, everything is simpler._

This was his main thought during their journey to Faroe. He knew, what was between him and Margo. He knew who he was and what he wanted. He hoped, that she wanted the same. Even the strange conversation they had didn't bother him too much. However, as they came closer to the end of their voyage, things started to change. He started to analyse the situation he would found himself in, soon.  
Their boat was approaching the harbour in Harviken slowly. It was an early afternoon, but cold winter was upon them already and the sun was shining over the island to set in few hours behind it.

_My new home... It's not easy, but..._

As they sailed into the port, the sun was already setting. Margo stood at the foredeck, looking ahead. He approached her to stand behind and hugged her closely. Together they observed the crowd at the harbour. He recognised Coinneach, Isengrim and Lóegairen easily as they stood surrounded by humans. As he involuntarily tightened his grip on her waist, she slightly turned her face to him and said:  
„The man with black, but now slightly greyish hair, is my father - Holger. My mother stands next to him and my brother - Halbjorn - is to her right. Next to them stands a man with ginger hair, Crach an Craite - my uncle - with my cousins: Cerys and Hjalmar. I didn't expect guests, but...”  
„The jarl of Ard Skellig came...”  
„Of Kaer Trolde. Remember, that Madman Lugos rules over the Southern part of the Isle from Kaer Muire.”  
„Oh... yes, I almost forgot.”  
„Just... don't forget, when you meet him - he killed for less...”  
„I'll try” – he chuckled.

When they landed at the quay, she descended the ship first and he followed. But, at the quay, she was waiting for him to catch up with her, so they walked side by side. He saw jarl's scrutinizing gaze and sighed.

_I have a bad feeling about it..._

Margo approached her parents with a wide smile:  
„Father! Mother!”  
„Carnelian! It's great to have you back” – her mother replied.  
„It is great to be back, mum. May I introduce: Iorveth” – she turned and motioned to him.  
„It's an honour to meet you, sir” – he said and shook Holger's extended hand.  
„Likewise, my friend, and... call me Holger.”  
„Iorveth, a pleasure to finally meet you” – Kerstin stated with a less fake smile than her husband's.  
„Enchanté” – he replied and shook her hand, bowing his head slightly.

When he was meeting her parents, she moved to her uncle:  
„Uncle!”  
„Carrie! We've always known, that you are crazy but we had no idea how much! And you didn't tell me!” – he exclaimed grinning.  
„Sorry uncle, we didn't have time and then... everything fucked up...”  
„Yeah... Holger told me. So you are Iorveth. Crach an Craite” – the man stated upon seeing him.  
„Honour to meet you, sir.”  
„Crach, just Crach. Look at Carrie and Cerys” – Crach motioned his head towards two young women and paused – „already deep in conversation and with serious faces. These two young women... if they are talking like this, it can only mean, that they know and understand more than we do. Never doubt that.”  
„And here I thought, that they are talking about me...” – he said jokingly.  
„You wish... They will, at some point. But, and forgive me for breaking it to you, you are quite low on their list of subjects, I can assure you” – they both laughed. – „This is my son, Hjalmar and now free to meet you, Cerys, my daughter.”

He greeted both of them and understood Crach's words better at once. The young woman had the same determination, tension and intelligence in her eyes as Margo. She was a little bit younger, but her face was scarred too.

_Two jarls' daughters of extraordinary strength... They are the true power behind many things on the Isles, I have no doubt as to that._

After greetings, Margo looked at her parents and stated:  
„We will join you in the hall, soon.”  
„Are you not coming?” – her mother asked, but she wasn't too surprised.  
„We will stay in the cottage, I haven't been there for too long” – Margo answered and smiled at him, motioning him to go with her.

As they were in some distance, he began:  
„Your parents didn't expect that.”  
„Oh... they did. The cottage is ready for us, they knew, that I will choose to stay there with you...”  
„Why?”  
„Hmm... because they got used to... and now as things have changed, it will take some time.”  
„Oh yes... Mr. Perfect...”  
„Iorveth, don't. I don't care and they understand it, give it time.”

They soon arrived at the cottage, which was a little bit further to the West than the town. You could see other houses from it, but it was hidden in the forest, close to the rocky beach. Waves were flushing there loudly. To his surpice, Margo didn't open the door, instead, she led them further into the forest. It was already dark and freezing, as they made love under the sky, slowly and passionately, in the rhythm of the waves drowning their moans.  
Everything smelt of the sea salt here and the air was almost harsh to the nostrils. Already on the boat, he realised, that close to the sea she was different: calmer and stronger. The sea was her element, as the forest was his. But forests on Faroe were different: mostly spruces and birch-trees were growing here. The lower levels of the forest were sparse and transparent. When they dressed up, he was surprised to see someone standing between the trees.  
„Margo, someone is here...” – he whispered.  
„What?”  
She looked in the direction, which he pointed out and said:  
„Welcome, Crow. We didn't expect you...”  
„May I speak with him alone, child?”  
„Obviously.”  
„Go, wait in the cottage. I will return him to you” – the old, blind woman said and Margo left at once.

_The Seer... Margo respects her greatly... Well...I didn't expect her so soon._

The woman came to him and touched his scarred cheek with her dry hand before she said:  
„Are you ready to jump for her?”  
„Sorry?”  
„In the West, there are white cliffs, the Cliffs of the Lost Souls. No one jumps there, unless for the last time.”  
„You want me to kill myself?”  
„You were thinking of death more than any of your brothers and sisters...”  
„But... now...”  
„No one must know. You will go with three brothers, two children of men and one of your own. The time is near, you must go at dawn” – as she said that, her voice changed and she recited in trance:

 

_Brothers shall fight and fell each other,_  
_And the sisters' sons shall kinship stain._  
_Wraiths of Mörhogg will come from the water,_  
_red blood of your kin will flow in vain._

_Dark desires of your hearts awoken,_  
_who is foe and who is friend you ask,_  
_truth and false are yet unspoken._  
_You must decide before falls the dusk._

_The fate is cruel, would you hear yet more?_  
_Blood of your own blood will be your price,_  
_or what you once lost with the heart's sore,_  
_fear and shame, now, you will sell it twice._

 

As she finished, he was staring at her face for a long time before she headed back to the town without saying another word. Margo didn't ask about anything, but looked at him with concern from the moment he entered the cottage. Still, he was silent.  
In the cottage, their luggage and some new clothes were already waiting for them, along with the bath. It didn't take them long to get ready and they went to the feast. At the door to the jarl's house, the jarl himself waited for them with a stern expression and stated somehow coldly:  
„Carrie, go inside. I will speak to him.”  
„All right, father” – she said, looked at Iorveth with worry and went inside.

Holger seemed angry, as he started to walk towards the quay. Iorveth followed him a little bit unsure. As they stopped at the end of the quay, the jarl said:  
„I've spoken to the Crow” – he said looking at the sea, paused and looked at him – „She is my daughter. Here, on Faroe, something like that cannot happen. What do you think you are doing?” – asking this question Holger had a stern and dangerous expression.  
„Aen Seidhe believe, that the most important things shall be done under the sun and the stairs to have them as your witness” – Iorveth replied calmly.

Holger was staring at him for a long time, but his features relaxed quickly. Then, he said:  
„I judged you too harshly, forgive me... We are all nervous lately.”  
„Why?” – the Seidhe asked. Holger looked at the sea and then back at him before continuing:  
„There was an attack on Hindarsfjall...”  
„Who would dare?”  
„Wraiths of Mörhogg. Cerys wants to sail there with Carnelian to investigate as soon as possible. But there is nothing, that they can find. In the past, the Wraiths extremely rarely invaded Skellige...” – upon hearing the answer Iorveth tensed, but asked:  
„Did the Crow repeat to you the prophesy which she spoke in my presence?”  
„Yes. This is bothering me, too. I'm getting old and Halbjorn doesn't have children, yet. But from what she said, he may never have... It may pass to Margaret to ensure the continuation of the clan Dimun, of my family. If the time comes, will you be ready? Are you the one, Iorveth?” – Margo's father asked him in a heavy voice. Iorveth didn't hesitate for a moment before answering:  
„I love her.”  
„Aye... let's hope it will be enough” – the older man said. – „Now, come inside. We have a feast to participate...”

They walked back in total silence. From afar, he heard sounds of the incoming storm. But he knew, that usually, the storm is just a storm.


	70. Halbjorn Savione 1272

HALBJORN

 

Savione 1272  
Harviken  
Faroe

As his father and Iorveth entered the hall, Halbjorn knew, that he accepted the man without any reservations. But he was shocked, when the jarl invited the Seidhe to sit at his left hand. This was a place reserved for Carnelian or her husband in the future. Carrie looked more than surprised as well, exchanged very strange glances with their mother and Cerys, but sat at Iorveth's side without a word. As the rest was seated, Holger stood up and raised his glass, saying:  
„My family and friends, let's drink: to the future!”  
“Skål!” – all shouted and drunk, spilling the last sip on the ground for the gods and the dead.  
“How was the Continent?” – Vigdis, his wife, asked Carrie.  
“Fantastic. Everyone wanted to kill everyone. As you know, Coinneach, Lóegairen and the rest had enough of it quickly. If it wasn't for Ciaran, I would probably lose my mind, but thanks to him, I just became a drunk.”  
“It was a very interesting soul-searching journey” – Ciaran, who sat close to them, mocked.  
“And how is your soul, sis?” – he inquired.  
“Exactly as I thought: non-existent. I sold it a long time ago: to Davy Jones...” – as she answered the hall laughed heartedly, but she only smirked.

After a few hours, Halbjorn was standing in the corner, talking with Hjalmar and Isengrim. He noticed Iorveth approaching them slowly and, as he got to them, they all smiled:  
“That was quite a show today” – Isengrim said smirking.  
“I know. I didn't expect that” – Iorveth replied.  
“What did you tell to my father?” – he asked curiously.  
“The truth.”  
“Oh...” – he paused looking at the Seidhe intently. – “And does my sister know?”  
“Not yet and I was right to wait. There is something I need to do” – Iorveth said with tension in his voice.  
“The trial was set?” – Hjalmar asked.  
“Yes and I don't understand much of it. I need your help, Halbjorn.”  
“Sure. Do you remember the exact words?”  
“It's hard to forget...” – Iorveth said and repeated to them his conversion with the Crow.  
“Fuck!” – Halbjorn swore, as he finished. – “Those cliffs... I mean, we jump from various cliffs on Faroe, it's risky, but rarely truly dangerous. But the gods want you to jump from the Suicide Cliffs and no one survived it, yet. And... it's winter...”  
“I thought so” – Iorveth replied in a resigned voice. – “But... I was almost sure, that so many nights before would be my last, that... I'm getting used to it.”

They all went silent before Hjalmar stated:

“We meet you at dawn near the cottage. Now, go with her. You may not have much time...”

Iorveth took the advice, because he and Margo left soon after their conversation.

_She will kill us all once she learns, what we are planning to do._

At dawn, Iorveth emerged quietly from the cottage with an expressionless face. On their way to the cliffs, they were conversing about trivia, as if it was a morning like any other. It was at the moment, as all four of them stood at the edge of the cliff, when they fully realised, what is going to happen. Halbjorn spoke slowly:  
“This is why they are called Suicide Cliffs. The cliff is very high and the water is deep, but there are rocks everywhere down there. Moreover, if you survive the jump, you'll need to swim for a long time before you'll be able to get ashore and the waves here are murderous, while the water is cold” – he paused and looked at the Seidhe, whose face still didn't show any emotion whatsoever. – “If you decide to jump, we'll wait for you a mile to the South on a beach, but... there are water currents there, you may have a problem to swim to the beach.”  
“Fine” – Iorveth stated casually and started to undress. – “It's a good day to die...”  
“What?” – Isengrim asked in shock.  
“She always says that... I like it” – the younger Seidhe replied with a smirk and just... jumped.  
“Fuck!” – Halbjorn and Hjalmar shouted, but it was too late.

_They are all suicidal... There is nothing, that can stop an elf from getting what he or she wants. I should be impressed, but... My sister is going to kill me, because of that._

Iorveth was gone. They stood dumbfounded for a while, but Isengrim stated calmly, gathering the other Seidhe's clothes:  
“Come, we promised to wait on the beach.”  
“But... Isengrim...”  
“The trial didn't kill us, though it was close. It won't kill him, either. Come.”

They went South and got to the beach. There was no one out there. They sat and looked at the water to the North. Then, he saw Iorveth swimming, but having a hard time with the waves. He shouted at once:  
“Hjalmar!”  
“Coming!”  
Both undressed and got to the water. As they reached the spot, where the Seidhe was just a while ago, he was already not to be seen. He sunk. They swam, searching frantically. After a long time, Halbjorn saw him and dove. At last, they dragged him to the beach. Isengrim was waiting there and started to resuscitate his friend immediately. More of the precious time have passed... They were losing hope, but Isengrim didn't give up. In the end, Iorveth coughed violently and opened his eye. When he could breathe normally, he just stated:  
“Your gods suck... “  
They all laughed and looked at Iorveth, shaking their heads.

_He is alive... for now. But we are yet to face Carnelian's wrath..._

The moment they got to Harviken, they saw some Seidhe and humans looking at them. Carnelian emerged from the hall with Cerys just a moment later. Their mother, father and Crach were following them. The Crow stood in the shadow of the jarl's house. As his sister approached them, she spoke with a demanding voice:  
“Where have you been? All of you! Have you lost your minds?!”  
“We...” – Halbjorn started, but was interrupted by Iorveth:  
“… were sightseeing.”  
“Sightseeing?!” – she huffed and exclaimed with raised eyebrows.  
“Yes” – Iorveth answered in a calm voice.  
“So why are you all wet...?”  
“We swam a bit.”  
“But Isengrim...”  
“He didn't.”  
“You look terrible.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Do you think I'm a fool?”  
“No” – as he answered again, she bit her lower lip and asked looking at the rest:  
“Anyone has something else to say?”  
“No” – they all replied.

She looked in cold anger at them before she spoke again:  
“You are all grounded. You won't go anywhere without guards. Is it understood?”  
“You can't Margo...” – Iorveth stated slowly.  
“I can and I just did. Since today's morning, we are at war and I command the warriors of the clan Dimun.”  
“War? With whom?” – Halbjorn asked.  
“Nilfgaard. We received ultimatum...”  
“What kind of ultimatum?”  
“To assist them with conquering the Northern Realms or... to go down with them. Emhyr sent it to all jarls, but not to the king. He is trying to divide us again but he will fail. Still, we must prepare for war.”  
“May I just point out, that neither Isengrim, Hjalmar nor myself are under your command?” – Iorveth stated.  
“My men are and they will guard you. As to your oath, it's high time to make up your minds, Iorveth. You passed the trial” – she said in an irritated voice and paused. – “I saw, that Crow is looking at you with surprise, she didn't see the outcome but you survived. Don't think, that you can lie to me, I'm usually one step ahead, remember?” – she asked looking pointedly at all of them. – “Now, we must sail at once to An Skellig, while we still can. From there, I want to go to Hindarsfjall. We will be back on Faroe in a fortnight.”  
“OK” – Iorveth stated. – “We will go today.”  
“OK” – she huffed, shook her head and went to their cottage.

Halbjorn observed Iorveth bowing his head slightly to his father, before he turned around, too and followed her slowly.

_I think, that I don't envy him... Living with her under the same roof was always... challenging._


	71. Cerys Yule 1272

CERYS

 

Yule 1272  
Urialla  
An Skellig

The feast was loud and merry, the Skelliger already got used to the company of Aen Seidhe and even enjoined some of their customs, too. Especially music. However Skelliger may not admire it fully, they were impressed by Seidhe skills. As Carrie and Iorveth were dancing in the hall, it was Ciaran, who started to play Stella Splenders. This, unexpectedly, caused the two dancers to kiss and almost cry. When they resumed dancing, everyone else left the dance-floor, giving them space.

_Like the first dance and they look, as if they were born to dance this very dance: here, tonight, together._

Cerys looked at Isengrim, who was standing alone in a corner. She heard the story from Carnelian back on Faroe and understood his half-sad half-glad expression, so she approached him asking:  
„Did you love her?”  
„You are quite blunt” – he replied looking at her, but continued: – „I was very close to...”  
„Are you still angry at her?”  
„I... I've always understood...”  
„And at him?”  
„Usually, I would be... for hiding something like that from me, but... in these circumstances... I can't.”  
„So you are not angry at all?”  
„Probably mostly at myself.”  
„And he?”  
„Is he angry at me? Immensely...”  
„Over a woman?”  
„Not a woman, we shared women before, even at the same time” – he smiled at her blush. – „The woman. The one he wants more than anything else. The one, who is his.”  
„But, you thought, that he was dead... is it really your fault?”  
„He wouldn't mind if she was with some random dh'oine or even Seidhe. But me... this is another story.”  
„Brotherly rivalry?”  
„You can say so, I guess... But mostly: once he told me, that he trusted me always and with everything. Now, it would never be the same... he will not forget that.”  
„And you, will you forget?”  
„I already did. Truly, a commitment was never my thing.”  
„Really?” – she asked in disbelieve. – „I would say, that to the contrary. You are committed to so many people and things, that I doubt, that there is still free space in your heart or mind.”  
She smiled when he looked at her pensively and left her to go to the main table.

_Isengrim... oh, I am such a fool..._

After some time, she walked there, as well. Many guests were dancing in the hall of the clan Tuirseach now. The tune just changed and she felt a grip on her arm, as she turned around – it was Isengrim, who was looking at her with a warm smile:  
„Would you dance with me, Cerys?”  
„Yes” – she answered and smiled, too.  
She felt a shiver, as he pulled her closer when they danced and as his palms brushed against hers. He looked at her intently, almost taking her breath away. As the music slowed down, she asked:  
„What are you thinking about?”  
„That your heart is free. Far from innocent, but free” – he replied with a chuckle.  
„I am not the one to commit.”  
„Oh... I think to the contrary. But, you want to commit once and for the lifetime. Anything in between is just a pass-time for you. You want to be the first and the last, who matters. But you are wary, afraid, that it will never happen. Instead, you froze your heart not to be disappointed.”  
She met his dark eyes and time stopped around her. She didn't breathe or move. Thankfully, the music stopped as well, they bowed to each other and she could turn around and go to catch some air outside.

_How could you read me like an open book? And so fast?_


	72. Isengrim Yule 1272

ISENGRIM

 

Yule 1272  
Yngvar's Fang  
An Skellig

They all decided to let him and Iorveth go to Gunnar – the guard of the Path – alone, in the early morning. As instructed, they found a man sitting by the huge rock at the foot of the mountain. He noticed them, as they approached and stated:  
„Who venture the Path in two, will need to choose what to lose...”  
„What?”  
„I warned you. You should go alone, but... if you go together, strange things will happen. You will need to choose.”

They looked at each other, but they made up their minds a long time ago. They were going together.  
„Thank you, Gunnar, but we are not changing our minds” – Iorveth said.  
„Go, then and bring me two tokens.”

They were climbing the Fang steadily and but for a few harpies, they met no obstacles. As they were a few meters from the peak, the ground under Isengrim's feet collapsed and he started to fall down, having no time to think or to grab anything, but... then, he felt a strong hand catching him – it was Iorveth. He fell to the ground and extended his hand. Still... they were trapped. Isengrim couldn't grab anything to pull himself up and Iorveth wouldn't survive long in this position. There was nothing they could do. Isengrim looked in his friend's eye and said:  
„Fraere... you can't hold me for long.”  
„I know” – he panted. – „You are terribly heavy...”  
„Let go, Iorveth.”  
„What?! No. This is not an option. I will pull you up.”  
„Iorveth...”  
„Shut up and prepare your other hand to grab the edge.”  
„Fraere...”  
„No! We'll do it. You won't give up like that. We've always fought together and we survived” – Iorveth argued panting.  
„OK” – he almost whispered.

It was impossible, but they did it. As he climbed up and they sat, panting heavily, he just said:  
„Thank you...”  
„I hate it when you give up.”  
„Sometimes there is nothing else you can do...”  
„I refuse to believe that.”  
„I know.”  
„But now... how are we to jump to the path on another side of this chasm?” – Iorveth asked, shaking his head.  
„We must climb the rock to our left.”  
„Fuck...”

Again, not without difficulty but they did it. Together. Soon, they noticed the scarf – the token, which they were supposed to bring down. But, as they were approaching, a harpy came and stole it, just in front of their noses to dove down beyond the mountain a second later. They didn't even have a chance to react.  
„For fuck's sake and now what?” – Isengrim asked with anger in his voice. – „Is everything on this cursed Path against us?”  
„It was not just a harpy... it was a celaeno harpy...” – Iorveth stated pensively.  
„How...?”  
„Advantages of spending time with certain vatt'ghern.”  
„Oh... so what about them?”  
„They steal dreams and bind them to crystals.”  
„Sick...”  
„Yeah. Gwynbleidd saw mine in Vergen... his story was quite interesting.”  
„What did you dream about?”  
„Home” – Iorveth answered with a small smile. – „But by then, it was terribly empty...”

Isengrim didn't reply, not certain how to react. But Iorveth broke the silence:  
„Come on, we will track her down.”  
They went down the mountain slope to find a cave, from which other harpies were flying out. Venturing it, they needed to fight hard on their way and they were more than thankful, that Carrie gave them silver swords for their quest... it would be impossible to survive without them here.

Not without difficulty, they got to the shelf, where nests were laid and they found a circular, stony object. It looked like...  
„Projector” – Isengrim stated.  
„I think so, come, let see some dreams” – Iorveth suggested mischievously.  
It was probably wrong of them to do it, but... who would know? So they gathered few crystals and put them into the projector. The first - included people arguing. The second - sailing and feasting. The third: orgies... Well... But the fourth took their breath away.

 

_„Ragh nar Roog...” – Carrie's voice whispered._  
_„Carrie! Watch out!” – it was Hjalmar, fighting behind her, who shouted._  
_She turned around to see him falling to the ground, cut almost in half by an elf. He was tall and slender, still in the skeleton armour, but wore neither mask nor helmet. His long chestnut hair was falling down in elegant waves. His face was incredibly beautiful but his features were displaying contempt and hunger. His lilac eyes were fixated on her, as he was approaching slowly... She fought hard, but had no chance. She fell to the ground, soon, with bleeding arms and without her weapons. She screamed in pain, as he pulled her by her hair saying:_  
_„You really thought, that you can get away from me?”_  
_„Fuck off.”_  
_„Oh, I will... fuck, but not necessarily off...”_  
_„I'd rather die.”_  
_„I know, I see the defiance in your eyes. But we have been taking slaves for generations in your account of time, I know how to tame a dh'oine...” – he paused. – „I was searching for you for more than a decade. You and Zirael, you are coming with us... alive.”_  
_She started to fight, to pull her hair, to scream. He slapped her so harshly, that she fell down on her face. As he knelt down next to her, he pushed her roughly to the ground with his hand between her shoulders. He spoke again – slowly, viciously and seductively:_  
_„You are a slave and you will soon learn, what it means. You would regret, that you haven't had died that day, at the Tree. Then, I would grant you a quick death but you ran away, struggling so hard to survive. I was impressed by you, dh'oine. Impressed enough to wish to crush this little spirit of yours in every possible way. You will beg me to stop, but I won't.”_  
_„I don't beg” – she replied, but spoke no more, as he almost crushed her chest._  
_„So you will learn, filth.”_

 

The dream ended. Isengrim looked at Iorveth, who was equally dumbfounded and terrified as he was. They didn't breathe or move for a long time, looking in horror at the walls of the cave. When Isengrim gathered himself, he spoke:  
„Dearg Ruadhri... They are...”  
„Aen Elle... they must be” – Iorveth finished for him.  
„You think...”  
„...that she knows? That she met them ten years ago? Do you have any other explanation? This was a very detailed dream...”  
„Since we first came, there was a lot of talk about Ragh nar Roog... The prophecies... You think... that they may follow us here?”  
„Us or Zirael. Gwynbleidd... he said some things, as he got his memories back... about the Child Surprise and the Wild Hunt, following her through time and space.”  
„I... wished, that they come... I...”  
„We all dreamt of that, fraere” – Iorveth paused. – „Before we've met the pirates... Margo... The prophecy!”  
„What?”  
_„The fate is cruel, would you hear yet more? Blood of your own blood will be your price,_  
_or what you once lost with the heart's sore, fear and shame, now, you will sell it twice.”_  
„Gods! May it be?”  
„It looks like...”  
„But we cannot kill our brethren! Our kin!” – Isengrim exclaimed. – “There is nothing we can do...”  
„I know. I...” – the younger Seidhe paused with a terrified expression and continued: – „Am I to sell her again?” – he asked more himself, in a totally blank voice.  
„We cannot take the oath... we won't stand against the Aen Elle and I'm not planning to betray them.”  
„So what are you saying?”  
„I say, that we venture the Path, go to Hindarsfjall but at Faroe we must stall the ceremony and if anything will indicate that Ragh nar Roog may come - we must leave immediately.”  
„Is... I...”  
„I know. But would you...?”  
„No.”  
„So you have no choice, either.”

Everyone was cheering as they came in the evening back to Urialla. The celebrations took the whole night. He wasn't surprised, that Carrie and Iorveth stayed with the crowd till the very end.


	73. Cerys Yule 1272

CERYS

 

Yule 1272  
Lofoten  
Hindarsfjall

On the boat, the mood was more than strange. On the first night, she heard Carrie and Iorveth arguing in the captain's cabin. The second night, she saw, that Iorveth decided to sleep in another cabin and Carrie slept alone. It seemed like everything had changed in two days. Everyone was irritated by the time when they sailed into the harbour in Lofoten. There, it was terribly quiet and no one was to be seen. It was totally abandoned. They landed on the anchor and ventured to the village.  
Margo was at the head and Iorveth was following her. Isengrim was walking slowly towards them and Cerys caught up with him and smiled, as he looked at her. She asked quietly:  
„What is happening, Is? Something is wrong, I can see it.”  
„It's not our business, Cerys” – he answered.  
„You mean it's not mine. You, obviously, know. It started when you came back from the Path.”  
„All right... I cannot speak for them, but... we saw a dream...” – he replied with resignation.  
„Celaeno harpies?  
„How do you...?”  
„Geralt is my father's friend... they have a common experience with... Yennefer of Vengerberg.”  
„Oh... interesting, I didn't know that.”  
„Well... but as they've met, they liked each other at once, so... it doesn't really matter.”  
„I see. But yes, celaeno harpies had their nest in the cave below the Fang.”  
„So... you saw Carrie's dream?”  
„Yes.”  
„Well... And?”  
„It changed everything.”  
„Oh... so his heart is so easy to sway?”  
„No. His heart will never change, he is already too deep in this relationship. But his mind, it's a different story.”  
„And what your heart is telling you?”  
Isengrim looked at her pensively, with a tense expression. He spoke in a low and quiet voice:  
„My heart tells me, that I want to stay. But... I know, that I may need to go.”  
„And for now?” – she inquired further, but he didn't answer.  
Instead, he took her hand gently and walked with her to the village.

In the village, Cerys and Carrie were investigating frantically, pacing back and forth through the abandoned village:  
„Strains of blood” – Cerys stated, crouching next to the stables.  
„And sulphur... Many trails of heavy armour boots and hoofs” – Carrie added.  
„Some houses were burned. But I still feel...”  
„… cold. Frost from the void...”  
„What?”  
„The Wild Hunt... they are travelling through the void and draw magical power from its frost.”  
„How...?”  
„Long story, dear.”  
„But the Wild Hunt... they are wraiths, they don't leave tracks like that!” – Cerys exclaimed.  
„No, Cerys” – Carrie stated slowly – „they are of flesh and blood...”  
„What? How do you know?”  
„I've met them thirteen years ago... They are alive.”

Both women stayed on the island, still searching for more clues. It took them a few hours. Before they headed back, Cerys saw Carrie looking at Iorveth intently and breathing heavily. Then, she approached him and kissed him gently, without saying a single word. Later, she headed to the boat.

_She understood something, but what? Is she giving up?_

Back on the boat, Carrie was standing alone at the foredeck, looking at the horizon. As Cerys approached her, she saw it: a single teardrop was falling down her cheek. Carrie, the most determined warrior she knew, just gave up without a fight. She made a decision, which would haunt her for the rest of her life. But why? What could possibly stand between those two after everything they'd already been through and managed to work out? Cerys wasn't sure if she should but she asked nonetheless:  
„You are letting him go, aren't you?”  
„Yes, my dear” – she replied in a resigned voice.  
„Why?”  
„Choosing between something I will regret for the rest of my life and something I know he would, I'll always choose the former. I love him too much to allow him to suffer like that and for as long as he may live.”  
„But... Carrie... he loves you, he will be as heartbroken as you will.”  
„Yes. But, he'll believe, that I destroyed us. Soon, he will hate me and he can live with that. The alternative... I don't want him to live with the alternative, Cerys.”  
„What do you mean?”  
„The Wraiths of Mörhogg... I told you, that they are of flesh and blood” – Margo replied looking at her with a concerned face.  
„Yes. But Iorveth is not a man, who has never killed anyone... Some more killing is hardly a problem for him, is it?”  
„It is. Cerys... they are elves.”  
„What?!” – she exclaimed in shock.  
„Not Aen Seidhe, but still. Aen Elle are their cousins, they stem from the same people – Aen Undod. Do you think, that either Iorveth or Isengrim would kill one of their own?”  
„No! Obviously... so they either leave or... fight against us? Is that what you are suggesting, Carrie?”  
„That is why they must go. We may have already been surrounded by enemies, cousin... The ones we invited to our home... This is my fault, I know it. But... I'm trying to fix it. My feelings, or his, are irrelevant. We are talking about the safety of all Skelliger and I will never put it in jeopardy. Do you see now?” – Carrie asked looking her in the eyes.  
„Yes, Margaret... Sorry I doubted you, I won't do it again.”  
„There is nothing to be sorry about. You couldn't have known, but now, you do.”  
„I wish, I didn't.”  
„Me too, but we didn't choose the world we were born into or the times we were destined to live in. All we can do is use our time as good as we can and leave this world with nothing to be ashamed of.”

They stood together on the deck, looking at Faroe, which was getting bigger and bigger as they were approaching it. The sun was setting slowly behind it and everything was bathed now in the red light of the last rays.


	74. Cerys Feainn 1272

Adagio

 

CERYS

 

Feainn 1272  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

The news of Bran an Tuirseach's death travelled fast. Crach an Craite, as his next of kin, invited the mourners to Kaer Trolde. But everybody knew, that the king's death would change everything. Since the attack on Cintra and king Eist's death, all the jarls grew closer, worked together and put many quarrels behind them. They knew, that against Nilfgaardian thread they must stand united. Carnelian and her father, Holger, had great input in this unity. Their information and warnings allowed them all to be ready and to influence significantly the outcome of the war. It also allowed them change their position in the politics of Northern Realms.  
As Cerys and Hjalmar learned about a race for the crown, they both decided to run immediately. Their father considered it for a while but decided to support both of them. Cerys knew how unlikely it was, that the jarls would choose a woman to rule over them, but... they followed Carnelian during the war. Why not her? As the other woman came to her mind she started to wonder, if she would run, too. Cause if she would, well...

The answer to her question came two weeks later, as the small fleet from Faroe landed at the harbour in Kaer Trolde. Cerys was quite shocked to see two tall men, hidden under hoods. She knew, who they were, so she decided to lead them to the stronghold as soon as possible. They didn't speak until they were in the main hall of the keep.  
„Carnelian! Holger! Halbjorn! Isengrim! Iorveth!” – she exclaimed as the door was closed.  
„Cerys!” – they all greeted her and Isengrim approached her and kissed the top of her hand.  
She shivered, but smiled gently.  
„Our deepest condolences” – he said looking her in the eyes – „your uncle was a great man.”  
„Yes, he was. Thank you. I'm glad to see you all, but you are in danger here.”  
„We know, Carrie hoped, that you can arrange somewhere else for us to stay for a while. I wanted to see Ard Skellig” – he stated and grinned at her.  
„I am happy, that you did. There is a house in a village a few hours from here, it's called Rogne. I'll make arrangements.”  
„Thank you.”  
„You're very welcome, Isengrim. Carrie, may I ask you a question?”  
„I'm not, but Halbjorn is” – she replied, reading her mind and looked at her brother with a smile. – „I support him with all my heart.”  
„And influence” – Cerys added coldly.  
„Yes. We are here for this very reason” – Carrie replied firmly.  
„I understand.”

She looked at Carrie and realised, that she looks tired and sad. Iorveth stood far from her, looking as devastated as she did. But it was not her business. Then, she looked at Isengrim, who was observing her intently.

_This is going to be an exhausting month..._


	75. Geralt Feainn 1272

GERALT

 

Feainn 1272  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

A heavy summer storm just passed, as he approached the harbour in Kaer Trolde. Everything was wet but bathed in the sun of the late afternoon. The one trait, which everyone praised in the Skelliger, was their persistence. It was a time of war and with the king gone, they've already decided to choose another one. But it was not to be easy and almost every jarl's son or daughter decided to take part in the race for the crown.  
On his way up to the stronghold in Kaer Trolde, he met the king's son and Carnelian. What didn't surprise him, they were walking together but in a distance. Like friends, far from closeness they once shared. He knew, that many things have changed since they were together. Geralt greeted them both:  
„Margaret and Svanrige! It's good to see you. I'm so sorry for your loss, king Bran was an exceptional man.”  
„Geralt!” – they both exclaimed.  
„Thank you, witcher” – Svanrige added and bowed slightly.  
„You are leaving the feast?” – Geralt inquired.  
„Svanrige built a new boat, a new type of drakkar. I'm going to inspect it” – Carrie stated with a small smile. – „Later, we'll join the feast, don't worry, my friend. We'll have plenty of time to talk.”  
„See you then” – he replied and smiled widely.

So he headed up as they descended to the harbour. At the feast, everything went wrong in a matter of minutes. As Geralt was conversing with Crach in his rooms, the berserkers attacked. Now, only three contestants to the crown of Skellige survived: Cerys, Hjalmar and Svanrige. He was standing with Carnelian, who was watching her brother's body laid down on the floor of the stronghold in Kaer Trolde. She was sobbing quietly, hiding her face in her hands. Geralt hugged her and she turned to him, saying:  
„It should be me, Geralt... It should have been me, not Halbjorn...”  
„Carrie... Don't...”  
„No, Geralt. It would make everything so much easier for so many... Even some lives may have been spared... If it has been me. But Halbjorn” – she sobbed – „he died in vain.”  
„Carrie it was an accident... fate...”  
„Don't speak to me about fate, Geralt. It's dark, twisted and pointless. You know it as well as I do. We both only gained to lose in the end. There is no fate, just pure accident in the universe. Pointless accident. Halbjorn... he deserved to live, to have children and a long, happy life. He deserved it all and now...” – she sobbed uncontrollably in his chest.  
But one of the marvellous traits she had was determination. Soon, she calmed herself down and went to her father, who was sitting at the table, drowning his sorrows in a mug of mead. They sat together, silent for hours and then, stood up and went to sleep.

The whole next day he spent with Cerys investigating, what had happened at the feast. They found out the truth, but were far from being able to prove it beyond the reasonable doubt. Still, they didn't have more time, so they faced the jarls in the evening. The outcome was as they expected: they didn't believe them, until:  
„Wait!” – a new voice came from the path leading to the terrace, where they stood.  
Margo and Svanrige were coming slowly in their direction. As they stood next to Cerys, they looked at each other and Svanrige spoke:  
„Mother... You told us to leave the feast and go to the harbour.”  
„You saved our lives, Birna” – Margo stated slowly but a cold wrath was transparent in her voice. – „But how did you know?”

She was answered with a silence. Then, Svanrige stated strongly:  
„You gave Cerys no credence. You gave the witcher no credence. But you must give credence to a son, who accuses his own mother” – Svanrige stated looking at the jarls. – „The massacre was her doing. She's shamed herself, me, the family and the clan!”  
„Svanrige... I did it for you! Only for you!” – Birna cried.

He expected Carrie to kill the woman with her bare hands on the spot. But Carrie looked tired and crushed, as if finally, she gave up the fight. The young woman just turned around and walked away, not even waiting for the jarls' verdict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcin Przybyłowicz, Mikołaj Stroiński „King Bran's Final Voyage”


	76. Margo Feainn 1272

MARGO

 

Feainn 1272  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

It was almost morning, as they were sitting in the harbour of Kaer Trolde. They sat on their favourite spot, the place they've came together since they were children. But, they were children no longer... She hugged him closely and whispered:  
„Svanrige...”  
„No... Carrie. This... your brother! I...”  
„I know. But it wasn't your fault.”  
„Maybe it was? I should have known...”  
„Oh, my dear. We all have things we regret.”  
„I regret losing you...”  
„I missed you for a long time, but...”  
„You moved on. I can see you, Carrie. You were radiating last time I saw you on An Skellig - with Iorveth.”  
„I remember. Still, it is but a past, as well.”  
„Why?”  
„I am the heir to the seat in Harviken, the next head of the clan Dimun... I'm not sure, if anything can stay the same... And he must go... But listen to me and my trifle. What are you planning to do?”  
„I...”  
„Go to the East, Svanrige. Go to Vergen.”  
„Why?”  
„Our friends are still there, they'll take you in and you can start fresh, take another name. I beg you, don't do anything rash.”  
„I'll try, Carrie. Take care.”  
„You too, my friend. We'll miss you.”

They hugged closely and rested like that for a long while. The sun was rising slowly, changing the colours of the Great Sea gradually. There was no wind and no cloud in the sky. It was empty. As empty as was she.


	77. Cerys Feainn 1272

CERYS

 

Feainn 1272  
Rogne  
Ard Skellig

A few days later, Carrie and Cerys were accompanied by Geralt of Rivia on their way to Rogne. They suggested, that he would meet old friends there but nothing more. As they opened the door to the cottage, Geralt exclaimed:  
„Iorveth and Isengrim! I should have guessed!”  
„Gwynbleidd, it's good to see you” – Iorveth hugged the witcher brotherly.  
„So you are all staying on Skellige Isles!”  
„Yeah...”  
„How have you been?” – Geralt asked and they all conversed about the funeral, feast and the last events.

It was Carrie, who brought the sensitive subject:  
„Geralt, why are you here? I don't think, that the king's death would be a reason enough for you to come and for Yennefer to make an appearance.”  
„No... we are looking for Ciri... She was here, probably pursued by the Hunt.”  
„Hindarsfjall...” – Carrie stated.  
„Yes. I heard, that you were there a while ago... did you find anything?”  
„The Hunt was there, I have no doubt... But we found nothing about Ciri, however, we didn't look and we didn't use magic. Yen may find more.”  
„She plans to. Carrie, may I take you outside for a while?” – Geralt asked.  
„Sure.”  
„And I'll go for a walk” – Iorveth stated and all three left.

As she was left alone with Isengrim for a moment, Cerys asked:  
„Would you like to stay on Ard Skellig for a while?”  
„Maybe... we haven't spoken about it yet.”  
„I see...”  
„Cerys, things are... complicated now. Today's news... may push things forward even faster, than we anticipated... I...”  
„Yes, I know. You are leaving” – she paused. – „At least, come for the elections. I want you to be there.”  
„I will, then” – he replied with an uncertain smile.

They sat in silence, looking at each other with longing and fear, uncertain how to act around each other. She closed her eyes and cursed it all: fate, time, place, gods, him, herself. Everything, what stood between them and it seemed to be the entire universe. Carrie was right: everything was a pure accident. She should have never even met Isengrim. They should have never talked or touched. It all should have never been. She wouldn't have felt this unexplainable hope, that they may be together. That he may be the one to understand her, to be at her side. Now, it was no more, but something, that could have been. She would never know...

_Of so many worlds why into this world we were thrown? Why we are here together? I already regret it. Why not regret something more? Can it change anything? It's always better to regret something you did than something you could have done._

As she looked through the window it started to rain and she heard thunder from afar. The storm was coming to wipe it all clean: to destroy, take away, but also to water the soil. There is always some ambivalence in summer storms.


	78. Iorveth Feainn 1272

IORVETH

 

Feainn 1272  
Rogne  
Ard Skellig

In the cottage they were staying in, there was not much place and only three beds. As Margo, Cerys and Geralt arrived, it was already getting dark and when they finished talking it was midnight. Margo fell asleep on his bed quite early, she looked deadly tired the moment she entered the cottage in the first place. He joined her and laid down next to her. But, before falling asleep, he heard an awkward conversation between Cerys and Isengrim:  
„Take my bed, I can...”  
„Isengrim, we're adults. Come, it's big enough for both of us.”  
„Cerys... I...”  
„I insist.”

His friend huffed, but he heard his footsteps. Isengrim liked the girl, he could say... It was him, who agreed to come to Ard Skellig for the funeral and Iorveth didn't really know: why? Maybe he just couldn't refuse Holger's bidding or he wanted to see Cerys for one last time... But, it didn't change anything. This relation was doomed, as was his relationship with Margo.  
Since they've came back from An Skellig Iorveth... couldn't... wouldn't... Already on the boat, they barely touched. But since Hindarsfjall... they barely talked as well. After a week of being pushed and treated as coldly as he could, Margo went to live back to the jarl's house, while he spent his nights alone and days with Isengrim and the rest of his friends in Seidhedol...  
He loved her more than he could say, more than he could express. This was the reason why... the possibility of betraying her clenched his heart. Touching her, he felt as if he was lying to her falsely assuring, that he is someone, who he could never be. He couldn't bear this thought, so they were falling apart gradually.  
He wouldn't dare to sleep with her today, if she hadn't been asleep already. But now, he could feel the warmth radiating from her, he could gently trace the curves of her body and inhale her scent. He could do so many things, which he refused himself and her for many long months. He closed his eyes, feeling, that his hands are beginning to shake again and he has problem breathing.

_I will lose you. I can feel it in my heart and in my soul. I will lose you again. What twisted fate made us meet each other and lose for the first time? What sick destiny allowed as to find each other again, only to take it one more time? Are we cursed? Or it was never meant to be in the first place? Maybe... it was just an accident, that we met, that we survived and now... Gods... are taking their due? Or even revenge: for daring to have more, than we deserved?_

The next day, he woke up alone. Margo was no where to be found, but her place in his bed was still warm. He got up to see Isengrim sleeping with Cerys, hugging her closely. They both looked so... perfect together. He wished he hadn't seen it, so he quickly left the cottage. Margo was standing at the hill, looking ahead. He hesitated for a long time before joining her. As he stood next to her, she spoke still looking ahead:  
„I slept with Svanrige...”  
He froze and closed his eyes, trying to calm his breath but spoke nothing.

_I knew, that it will happen sooner or later. I was so cold for so long... Still... she hurt and betrayed me again, knowing perfectly well, that she would. How can one person be so selfless and so selfish?_

„I realised how much I missed him and... that my situation has changed now” – she continued.  
„You are the heir to the seat of your clan and you must have an heir of your own. A dh'oine.”  
„Yes. I must marry and I must do it soon. We cannot fool around any longer.”

_Fool around? Is this, what I was for you? A toy? When did I make this mistake? When have I started to trust you? You are not selfless, but simply absolutely selfish. Deep in my heart I knew from the very beginning, that it may be just a game for you but... sometimes... I was a fool. No more. Idiot, as you said over and over again. Idiot, who trusted a dh'oine with his heart and future. We were all played, lured with a false sense of safety and purpose. Again. When will we learn?_

„I understand” – was all he said at loud.  
„I know you do. You can, obviously, stay on Faroe.”  
„I don't think so... most of us will go. It's time to come back to the Continent.”  
„Yes... it's probably for the best.”  
„I will stay here, I know, that Isengrim planned to go with Cerys to the elections. Then, we can sail back from Kaer Trolde.”  
„Yes. I agree.”

He turned around and left, not even looking at her.

_Maybe it's for the best? You destroyed us in the end. Now, we can go without any questions asked... Without regret... Knowing much, much more about you, dh'oine._


	79. Isengrim Lammas 1272

ISENGRIM

 

Lammas 1272  
Gedyneith  
Ard Skellig

The gathering of clans took place under the ancient oak. In the place, which seemed to be as old as the world itself. It was terribly loud: members of different clans were cheering or shouting for a change. Even some fights took place that evening. The mood was especially foul after the events, which had taken place in Kaer Trolde and it was obvious, that some still held the grudge. For example: Madman Lugos, who was watching clan an Craite with murder in his eyes.  
As Cerys put the crown on her head she looked radiating and stronger than ever before. She descended to speak with some jarls and then, spoke with Carnelian for a long while. As they finished, they hugged closely and both looked at him. Carrie just smirked at her friend and left to the centre of gathering. Cerys, on the other hand, approached him with determination in her face.  
„Your Grace” – he greeted her officially and bowed.  
„Come with me” – she only stated and headed West.  
They walked deeper into the forest. Far enough not to hear the sounds from the gathering. She turned abruptly and faced him, saying:  
„I couldn't breathe there.”  
„I can only imagine” – he replied in a reassuring voice.  
„But it's not the only reason, why I wanted to take you here.”  
„No?” – he asked surprised.  
„Come...” – she stated and started to walk again.  
So they ventured further into the West, through the sparse spruce forest. He smelt the sea as they approached the coast slowly. The line of the trees ended and they emerged on the clearing high on the mountain. The view before them was encompassing part of the island and the Great Sea. It was majestic, breathtaking and overwhelming.

 _This place is breathtaking... so alluring and fascinating. And you... with me, alone. So fitting here, so perfectly one with the island and the sea. For a time I thought, that I can be one with the island and with you. But it cannot be. I yearn for you so much, but.._.

She interrupted his internal struggle:  
„Is... I know, that you are leaving. I know, that you must go. But even if this was to be the last night, I still want to spend it with you.”

He watched her intently as she approached him. Her chocolate eyes were almost black and determined. He struggled to stop himself, but as she was one step in front of him, he closed the distance between them and kissed her passionately. He knew, that he shouldn't. But her lips were warm and eager, demanding and giving at the same time. His hand moved on its own accord to her hair, removing the fastener and allowing it to fall gracefully on her shoulders. As he separated from her lips, he needed to take a deep breath, seeing her so splendid and wild as she looked now.  
But she, probably not sure if he wouldn't stop her, moved quickly to his coat, shirt and belt. He killed his last rational thought quickly and pulled her down with him on the ground. As he undressed her completely, he devoured every inch of her body with his mouth, tracing her pale and freckled skin with his fingers almost frantically. The first time she moaned under his touch, he looked at her face. She let her eyelids fell down with a small smile on her lips. But he stopped his movements for too long, taking in her expression. Her eyes opened and she rolled them around to be on the top of him. One of her knees rested between his tights and the other was on his side. His hand sneaked in between her tights swiftly and as she felt his touch she looked surprised for a moment, but soon leaned in to kiss him, allowing him to bring her to the edge. She came quickly, panting in his ear. The sensation of her hot breath on his neck and the sound of her moans caused him to shiver with desire.  
She was still dazed from her climax, as he rolled them both around. When he looked in her hazed eyes, she smiled and encircled his waist with her legs and his neck with her arms, pulling him closer to her body and urging him to enter. She didn't need to do it twice, soon, he was inside her waiting for her body to adjust. As her muscles relaxed, she looked up at him with a smile and pulled him closer for a kiss, tilting her hips slightly up to him. They were moving with no rush, incredibly closely entangled. His hands moved to her back, pulling her breasts even closer to his chest. She was tasting him, tracing his body, trying to remember. He just lost himself in her, wishing this moment to last, completely forgetting about chasing his pleasure, relishing the closeness of her body. But... this kind of intimacy never lasts for too long. After a time, her muscles begun to clench again around him and they came, kissing deeply.  
He opened his eyes after a long time, still on the top of her, to meet her eyes.

_I wish I have never met you, luned... Now I won't forget, that it could be, but may not._

Much later, as they dressed up and walked back, they didn't speak at all. He was too afraid, that he would choke on his words. She pursed her lips so hard, that nothing could escape pass them. But he heard her swallowing her tears. Suddenly, she extended her hand to him, still looking ahead. He didn't hesitate for a moment, before taking it in his.  
They came back to the oak, walking slowly and holding hands, until they emerged from the line of the trees. The sun was rising now and everyone was asleep. Most of the crowd was just lying on the clearing around the great tree. But he saw Carrie sitting by the oak with open eyes, staring at them with a sad expression, like she knew, that everything has changed and is going to change again, very soon.


	80. Margo Velen 1272

MARGO

 

Velen 1272  
Harviken  
Faroe

She has always loved coming home from her journeys. The moment her drakkar approached the harbour and was landed slowly has always given her the feeling of euphoria. But today... she hated it with all of her heart and wanted to stall it at any cost.

 _The beginning of this end is here, our world is soon to become mere whirl._  
_Thy sweet dreams play you as thy worst fears, for their hungry screams open thy ears..._

_The Crow was right and so, here we are. At the edge of tomorrow, which can only bring loss, death and sorrow. My dreams turned out to be my nightmares. I let the man I love go, because I cannot trust him. I wouldn't dare to ask him to fight for me. I didn't even try... I will go to this battlefield alone. To die... or worse but it doesn't matter. He will be free, he will have what he dreamt of. They say, that all day-dreams must perish but some just turn into reality. His is very close._

_Merciful Freya... take me... take me, but don't take it away from him and don't let my people pay for my mistakes. Throw me into the darkness, just... spare them all. I beg you._

In the evening, she asked her father to walk with her. They ventured far South from Harviken in total silence before she spoke:  
„Father...”  
„Carrie... What's wrong?”  
„The Aen Seidhe, they are leaving, dad...”  
„What?! But we are preparing for war with Nilfgaard, didn't they want to fight?”  
„If I asked you to kill other Skelliger for someone else's cause, would you do it?”  
„No! Obviously!”  
„That is why they must leave... But, officially, they believe, that they need to try to get to Dol Blathanna. Many decided to stay, still. But... we won't ask them to fight for us.”  
„Carnelian, what do you mean?”  
„Ragh nar Roog... It's coming but it would not be, what we expected.”

It was the first and the last time, as she saw horror on her father's face. But he didn't ask about anything else, nor did he say another word. They hugged closely, standing in the deep forest for a long time. Then, they heard a storm coming from the East and saw lightnings piercing the sky. Her father spoke slowly, still hugging her:  
„Let it come, my dear daughter. We are strong. You are strong. Skellige will stand as it always has done, even if we are to fight alone. We are Skelliger, after all. Resistance and determination we learn at the age of three. Fighting and sailing at the age of five. We were build to stand through any storm. We did it in the past and we will do it again. Whatever comes, remember: I am the proudest father in the world. Always.”  
„I love you, dad... I will speak to mum... she must know, too and I want to be the one who will tell her. I... want to be alone with her for a while.”  
„Obviously. Sorrow is not weakness, Margaret. Not, if you can reforge it into a rage” – they separated, but she didn't look him in the eyes.  
The only person she could cry around now was her mother. Because she was afraid and her mother always gave her courage.


	81. Iorveth Velen 1272

IORVETH

 

Velen 1272  
Harviken  
Faroe

The boats were packed and at least two hundred Aen Seidhe were ready to sail from Harviken on that morning. He was overlooking the last preparations, trying desperately to occupy himself with anything. He couldn't think about what would happen in a moment. But as they were ready, Holger, Kerstin and Margo were standing at the main square, waiting for them to say goodbye.  
He stood in front of Margo but her eyes were like two endless and empty abysses and her face had no expression whatsoever. She only said:  
„Va fail, Iorveth. Say hello to Saskia from me.”  
„Va fail... I will, obviously...”  
As he approached Holger, the man had clenched jaw and cold expression. He was disappointed and he had every right to be. All of them disappointed him, but he and Isengrim, they've already betrayed him. There was no hand-shake nor fatherly hug. He only said:  
„Va fail. And don't come back.”  
„Va fail, jarl. Thank you for...”  
„Go away, Iorveth, before I say more. Just leave.”

Now, he was standing on the rear deck completely alone, watching Margo's figure shrinking and then, disappearing completely.

_I failed you... then you failed me... Or was it another way around? How is it possible to hurt each other so much over and over again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MIIA "Dynasty"


	82. Hjalmar Birke 1273

Vivo

 

HJALMAR

 

Birke 1273  
midday  
fjord  
Undvik

The sentinels were right... One of the fjords of Undvik changed the colour from blue to black. It was not an environmental disaster nor light... Nilfgaardians came with the power of the whole fleet. Even the ship of Emhyr var Emreis himself could be found in the very centre. His father stood on the mountain slope with Holger and Carnelian. He heard their conversation:  
„It's not good” – Crach stated.  
„No. To attack them we need to sail through the straits. Our ships are swift but...” – Carrie added.  
„They are too many” – Holger finished for her – „they can block us with ease.”  
„Yes” – his father agreed. – „What now?”  
„We wait” – Carrie stated.  
„For what?” – her father inquired.  
„Naglfar. Nilfgaardians will attack and we will join them. I would love to spill some Nilfgaardian blood, you know it. But if I'm right, we'll have a much bigger problem. We need allies” – she continued.  
„Allies? You think, that Emhyr will ally with us? After we refused to help him? After what you've done on Yaruga?” – her father asked in disbelieve.  
„Yes. It's about his daughter: Cirilla. We must make it look, as if we were helping him. Out of our own volition. Then, we'll talk” – the young woman said with conviction.  
„I don't like the notion of peace for any price” – his father stated again.  
„We need to survive the night, uncle. Then, we will think about the terms of the agreement. Now, it doesn't look good.”  
As he was listening to the conversation, they saw the magical anomaly and the black ship with black sails appeared out of no where in the fjord.

_Carrie was right. Ragh nar Roog. It's real. It's here._


	83. Margo Birke 1273

MARGO

 

Birke 1273  
dusk  
fjord  
Undvik

Indeed, Skelliger and Nilfgaardians forgot quickly, that they were enemies. Right now, they were fighting side-by-side against the elves. But it wasn't easy. They were tall, strong, skilled, heavily armoured and they simply refused to die...  
She was barely fighting her way through the Riders of the Hunt, as she saw something, what froze her blood: her father falling, cut almost in half by the elf, who was hunting her dreams for the last thirteen years... She stood frozen to her spot and felt the panic overwhelming her completely. Then, the elf looked at her and started to approach her, removing his helmet and the mask. He was impossibly beautiful, exactly as she remembered. But, right now, his features were predatory and dangerous. Coming closer, he said in a deep, almost seductive voice:  
„The one, who got away...” – he stated and smiled darkly. – „My name is Elisedd. I was searching for you for thirteen years and here you are: coming to me on your own. I want you to get used to my face... you will see a lot of it in the future, luned.”  
„Over my dead body” – she barked, but he only laughed:  
„Oh, no... I want you alive and whole... As for a dh'oine... you are a fascinating little thing.”  
They started to fight, but she had no chance... soon, both of her hands and her leg were bleeding and her swords were lying on the ground. He got to her and pushed her to the ground so roughly, that she fell on her face. Then, he crouched next to her and pulled her head up by her hair, whispering :  
„Now... be a good girl... Let me tie you up, so I can take you with me on Naglfar” – his lilac eyes were icy cold and hungry, looking at her like she was a piece of meat. She shivered but still tried to fight. But it was futile. She heard him speaking again:  
„Don't fight me! You are my slave, filth and I'll do to you whatever I please” – he stated slowly and with force in his voice.

_No..._

„Let her go!” – a new voice called. A voice she knew so well. The voice, which caused her heart to beat faster.  
„A Seidhe. Interesting” – Elisedd said, tilting his head. – „You know... we can share, if you like” – he offered with a nasty smile.  
„I said: let her go and leave.”  
„Hmm...” – Elisedd only pulled her up a little bit more, what caused her to whimper in pain and Iorveth prepared his bow, aiming at his eye. But the Aen Elle continued: – “You like her. So sharing is probably not recommended. As you see, I got her first. But we'll take many dh'oine with us this year and even more in years to come. Come with us and take your pick... I think I'll be quite occupied with this one” – he stated and looked at Margo with predatory eyes again.  
„One last warning: let her go.”  
„As you wish” – Elisedd pushed her roughly on the ground and she yelped again from the pain, which started in her nose, that was probably broken. – „You are not going to kill your kin for a dh'oine. We both know that. We are one. Put down your bow and join us... You know? In a gesture of our good will, I can give her to you to play with. A pretty little slave, what will you say?”  
Iorveth didn't answer. But the Aen Elle fell to the ground with an arrow in his eye. As she started to turn around, she heard the sound of a bow falling to the ground, felt a warm hand on her neck and heard:  
„Margo... can you move?”  
„Ior...” – she was sobbing uncontrollably – „Iorveth...”  
„I'm here and the battle is nearing its end.”  
„My... father...”  
„I'm so sorry, ma mienne.”  
She looked in the direction, where her father was lying and saw Isengrim kneeling next to his body with tense face. She turned to Iorveth and hugged him, crying in his chest. But his warm embrace calmed her down and she realised, that there would be much to do now, so she separated from him, saying:  
„Can you help me up?”  
„Obviously... You need bandages. I have some with me.”  
„Thank you...” – she looked up at him again and allowed him to help her.  
„Your nose...”  
„We have no time. I'll just stop the bleeding.”

They walked on the ice in the fjord in the direction of Naglfar and as they were closer, she noticed Hjalmar descending from it:  
„Margo!”  
„Hjalmar! Where is Crach?”  
„He... he is...”  
„Oh, Hjalmar...”  
„What is happening?”  
„The Gate of the Worlds is opening... this was just a beginning. Now, they can invade us as they please... "  
„What?”  
„I need to talk to Emhyr, now. Iorveth!”  
„Hmm?”  
„How many came back?”  
„All.”  
„Are they here?”  
„Yes.”  
„Go with them up there” – she motioned the mountain. – „Light the fires and be ready to shoot burning arrows at Nilfgaardians.”  
„With pleasure, ma mienne” – he answered with a grin.  
„Mousesack!” - she called the druid, who was just approaching them.  
„Carnelian?”  
„Can you make a hole in the magical shield?”  
„A hole, yes. More... no.”  
„A hole is enough. As I move my hand just cast a spell through it, preferably on Emhyr's ship, would you?”  
„Obviously!”  
„Just... don't kill him... yet.”  
„I try, Margaret” – he replied, bowing slightly to her.

She approached Iorveth, kissed him chastely and went to the nearest boat, which was not too damaged and could be sailed. Ronja and Viggo were at her side immediately and they prepared to sail in the direction of the Nilfgaardian fleet.


	84. Emhyr Birke 1273

EMHYR

 

Birke 1273  
night  
fjord  
Undvik

He looked at the young woman ascending his ship. Medium cut, curly and extremely red hair gave up her name: Margaret Laura Carnelian. Her attire was torn and she had bandages on both of her hands, leg and a swollen nose. Still, she carried her weapons on her back and refused to give them up to his guards. He motioned to his men to allow her to come closer. She approached him and bowed only slightly. He scrutinised her for a while and stated:  
„Margaret Laura Carnelian, your reputation precedes you... You are extremely brave or stupid to come to me.”  
„We were fighting side by side here, in the fjord, against the Aen Elle – the Wild Hunt and we won. Together.”  
„I offered you to conquer the North with me and your father refused...”  
„This is not about politics, Emhyr... You know, who is the real enemy now. They may invade us all and now – they can..."  
„So what are you offering?”  
„Peace.”  
„I can smash you in a blink of an eye, tonight. You lost men and ships, there is not much of Skellige's glory anymore.”  
„No, you can't” – she replied calmly. – „Your ships are blocked in the fjord and look at the hill” – he looked in the direction she pointed out to see at least a hundred archers and some bonfires.  
„I have shields.”  
„Do you?” – she moved her right hand up and a powerful spell moved his entire ship.  
„What?! How?”  
„We have a powerful Aen Saevherne on our side, did you seriously think, that this shield can stop him?”

He paused for a long while before inquiring:  
„How would this peace look like?”  
„No raiding, no war against each other, no blocking your trade routes.”  
„Do you have an authority for such an offer?”  
„You will meet with Queen Cerys shortly but I'm sure, that she will agree.”  
„Agreed. Now, we cease fighting.”  
„Yes. Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”  
„It was a pleasure to meet you personally, jarl Margaret Carnelian. The clan Dimun is lucky to have you at its head” – he stated and looked at her pensively for a while before adding: – „My condolences... I lost my father, too.”  
„It was not my destiny...”  
„Oh... maybe it was? You were saved by the Seidhe, weren't you? My men brought very interesting news of seeing two Aen Seidhe on the battlefield, who we believed to be long gone: Iorveth and Isengrim Faoiltiarna.”  
„Maybe.”  
„If so, your father was wiser, than I gave him credit for. You can build a dynasty, which will exceed any other. The policy only makes sense, if it's consistent...”  
„Va fail, Your Grace.”  
„Va fail, jarl.”

He was observing the hill for a long time after she left.

_I should have killed you. If you marry one of them... you'll be one step closer to build a dynasty to rule for centuries over much more, than just Skellige. But... enough blood was spilt today._


	85. Crevan Birke 1273

CREVAN

 

Birke 1273  
the next morning  
Undvik

In the morning, they came together to the battlefield. Zirael was tired, but determined to see the damage, that was done yesterday.

_And who could stop her?_

Obviously, Geralt and Yennefer were there, too. All stayed hidden under his invisibility spell.

He saw the Dearg Ruadhri lying on the pyre next to many dh'oine: Nilfgaardians and Skelliger alike. On two boats there were bodies of Crach an Craite and Holger Blackhand of the clan Dimun. But, it was not the dead, which surprised him. Not even the respect the dh'oine showed to his kin. It was the living: a man and two women were standing in the middle of the gathering of mourners, both young women were accompanied by Aen Seidhe... and he knew of them: Isengrim Faoiltiarna and Iorveth, but there were more Scoia'tael, who were believed to be long gone among the crowd.

_How is it possible?_

At first, the boats with the jarls were sailed and a young man with red hair and one of the women, with curly hair, shot the burning arrows to light their boats. Then, Isengrim and Iorveth, the other woman and no other, but the Emperor himself, lighted the pyre of fallen warriors.  
All stood in silence but after a long while, it was the woman with curly hair, who spoke:  
„It was a good day to die!” – the crowd shouted and Skelliger were beating on their shields loudly.  
„My friends! Last night brought us terrible losses. Losses, which we will mourn for a long time. But we know, that the Skelliger warriors will wait for us in Valhalla! Nilfgaardian soldiers are with the One Sun, bathing in its glory! And Aen Elle went to the isle, where apple-trees bloom the whole year! I do not know, if it was the Ragh nar Roog, but I doubt it. I know, that today a new sun raised and it raised for all of us, bringing a new hope and a change! We know now, who is our friend and who is an enemy. We will remember. Skelliger, Nilfgaardians and Aen Seidhe stood together and we survived. Since today, there will be peace between our nations and our races. Between the Empire and the Archipelago, it was cemented by a treaty and assurances made by Emhyr var Emreis and Cerys an Craite. But between Skelliger and the Aen Seidhe, it will be cemented in the oldest known way: by marriage. Today is the day when a new world is created. We are not going to stop and we are going to work even harder, cause we are the survivors and we will keep on surviving. Together.”

As she said that, she looked at Iorveth, who was observing her intently for a long time. Then, Crevan noticed it: a necklace made by Aen Seidhe jewellers with spectacular dark green seraphinite, shining in the light of the sun, was hanging on her neck. He realised immediately, what it mean.

_This dh'oine girl is engaged to Iorveth... How could it happen? He will marry the jarl of Faroe... indeed, luned, many things will change..._


	86. Iorveth Birke 1273

IORVETH

 

Birke 1273  
the next evening  
Undvik

Events of the last day and today's morning left everyone exhausted to the point, when all decided to stay one more night on the island. The inhabitants of Faroe moved to boats, which were used by Scoia'tael to come back. They didn't really have time to talk before, so now, as they all sat by the bonfire, it was Kerstin, who asked:  
„Why did you come back? Carrie told me, why you left and why she let you go, so why?”  
„We met Svanrige” – Iorveth answered and motioned to the young man, who was talking to Cerys right now. – „We met him in Novigrad and he made it quite clear to me, that Carrie lied to me to make me go. That she wanted to protect us, not only from fighting against our kin, but also from regretting leaving her and all of you... I realised... that we made a terrible mistake. That my place was and is at her side.”  
„So you sailed back... Just in time” – Kerstin stated slowly.  
„I'm so sorry, that we...” – he started, but was interrupted:  
„Don't be, Iorveth. Holger died a hero with his friend at his side. It was a good death, he wouldn't want it differently” – she paused before continuing: – „The jarl is coming back” – Kerstin stated, looking at Margo and he looked in her direction, too.

She seemed exhausted, as all of them but strong and determined again. When she approached him, he was standing up. She looked at her mother and asked:  
„Mum, is there anything I can do?”  
„Don't worry lassie, I will keep her company” – it was Vilmar, who sat by Kerstin and they both smiled gently.  
„Aye. We are going then, I see you in the morning.”

As they walked towards their boat, he sneaked his hand around her waist and she leaned in to him with a small smile. As she looked up at his face, she spoke:  
„Yesterday... you caught me off guard...”  
„If you...” – he started, but she interrupted:  
„No. I just... need to adjust” – she paused, before continuing – „I didn't ask yesterday... Where did the necklace come from?”  
„Funny thing you asked... We met Isengrim's friend in Novigrad – Sigismunt Dijkstra – who said, that he found something we would be interested in but he needed a favour. He wanted information about our dear king Radovid, which was almost impossible to provide. But... we did, what he asked and he gave us the necklace... What is the funniest in the whole story, is that this exact necklace belonged to my father's family for long decades: it was made by my grandfather for my grandmother. It was sold when they decided to move to the Blue Mountains... I don't know how it was acquired in Novigrad, but... it looks as if you were destined to have it.”  
„I... oh... me mienne. I love you, you know?”  
„I love you, too, ma mienne. More than I can say.”

They ascended the boat and went straight to the captain's cabin. It was more than a year since the last time they were together. They undressed in a hurry and surprisingly, went to the berth. They made love with urgency, need and hunger, but more than the mere pleasure, they were chasing closeness and intimacy. Their emotions were whirling in the cabin, spiralling up and down and they didn't care for their moans and other sounds escaping their mouths, as they were lost in each other, finally forgetting about the world.


	87. Ciaran Feainn 1283

Moderato

 

CIARAN

 

Feainn 1283  
early morning  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

How fascinating building a sandcastle can be? He has forgotten it a long time ago. But the moment Maelor was born and then Elowen, Estea, Sionann, Armann and others, he started to remember, how it was to live normally, to have time and have fun. The kids were spending most of their time in Seidhedol, so he had a chance to spent a lot of time with them. Today, it was Estea, who came to wake him up at sunrise. This was how they ended up on the beach, building sandcastles.  
„Uncle Ciaran?”  
„Hmm?”  
„Can we make another tower?”  
„Obviously, my dear. To the East?”  
„Yes. Uncle?”  
„Yes?”  
„Why don't you have children? I would like to have more cousins...” – the little girl asked looking at him pointedly.

_Well... luned. How am I to explain it to you? But you are right... I don't have a family or a life of my own, either. I'm living their lives... good lives, but... Not my own._

„Because I don't have a wife” – he decided to reply.  
„Hmm... I understand. I will never marry, too.”  
„Your mother was saying the same for a bigger part of her life until she married your father. Never say never, my dear Est.”  
„But I don't want to...”  
„One day you may need to become the jarl of Faroe, the head of the clan Dimun. It will be your duty to have an heir.”  
„I don't like the sound of that, uncle” – the girl stated and made a very serious expression.  
„I know, little one. But you are a daughter of two most determined people I know. You will be, who you will need to be. I have no doubt about that, Est. As a grown-up sometimes you must do things for the people. For your people.”  
„But mum always says, that if you don't like how the table is set, you just need to turn it around.”  
„Still, even she does things, which are expected of her from time to time, whether she likes them or not.”  
Serious conversations with children were probably the funniest thing, you could experience around them.

_Truly wonderful the mind of the child is... They see things plain and straightforward. They understand much more, than we, adults, can imagine..._

They resumed building the castle, but he couldn't stop himself from observing her with a warm smile. It was them, who truly changed everything.


	88. Iorveth Feainn 1283

IORVETH

 

Feainn 1283  
late morning  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

Seidhedol was filled with children laughing and running to the harbour. They were just playing pirates, obviously, and Estea was the captain of one boat with Armann as her second in command and Sionann and Heimir as her crew, while Elowen was the captain of the other with Maelor as her second in command and Fionn and Njala as the crew. He approached one of the boats slowly and seeing Maelor, he asked:  
„Where are you sailing to?”  
„Kerack, dad.”  
„And why there?”  
„It's where you've met mum.”  
„Oh... I see. Interesting choice...”  
„Would you take us there?”  
„Your mother already promised you to sail with you to the Continent, as your sister will turn fourteen.”  
„As pirates?”  
„No, Mael, with an official visit. There is peace between Skellige and Nilfgaardian Empire, we cannot ride their territories.”  
„Boring...”  
„I agree. But your mum is much better in politics than me, as you know.”  
„Dad?”  
„Hmm?”  
„Will you spar with me?”  
„Sure. Fetch your sword and report to your captain...”  
„… before you leave the boat. I know, dad. I know, what I'm doing here... I'm a Skelliger” – the boy stated proudly.  
Iorveth looked at him with a grin and nodded before saying:  
„Yes, you are, my son.”

 

_the night of Lammas 1274_  
_Seidhedol_  
_Faroe_

_This year's Lammas feast was exceeding anything, that happened at Faroe since they've arrived here. The Aen Seidhe village, Seidhedol, was almost finished. Small houses, built of grey bricks and with red roofs, stood neatly around the coast and were hidden in the shadows of white cliffs and mountains covered with spruce forest. The fjord, now called Holger's fjord, was a home of the thriving community of men and Seidhe alike, who were mostly focused on hunting and fishing, but also some of the most beautiful pieces of wooden craftwork were created there._  
_All of the inhabitants of Faroe and some guest were present, among them Queen Cerys with her husband, obviously. He couldn't stop a smile, as he saw Isengrim talking with Vilmar and Hjalmar, but looking at Cerys, who was conversing with Margo enthusiastically. Iorveth approached Isengrim and before he could speak, Vilmar started:_  
_„You should raise a toast, Iorveth.”_  
_„What?”_  
_„A toast. It's the night of Lammas, you know...”_  
_„I'm not an idiot, Vilmar” – he replied with a chuckle – „but why me? Isn't it... jarl's job to give speeches? And we all know, that Margo is the best at it.”_  
_„She is a jarl but she is not a man... On some occasions, it may bring bad luck...”_  
_„Superstitions? Really? And what she had to say about this?” – he asked._  
_„That Vilmar is right” – was Margo's reply as she joined them suddenly – „but I should speak to you first, me mienne.”_  
_„Isn't it time for a toast?” – Coinneach joined them, too, with glasses of wine and mugs of beer, grinning before he stated: – „pick your poison.”_  
_Everyone took a glass and Iorveth was thinking hard about what he is going to say. Then, he saw, that Margo didn't reach for a glass, so he asked mockingly:_  
_„And you, ma mienne? What are you going to toast with?”_  
_She smiled and pondered for a while before replying:_  
_„I hoped to speak to you more privately, but... I don't think we have time. I'll drink water, me mienne. Tonight and for at least a few years to come” – she grinned at him._  
_„Is the abstinence a new requirement for a jarl?” – he mocked her further._  
_„Oh, Iorveth... it's a requirement for a mother, you fool” – it was Kerstin's voice, which came from behind him._  
_He held his breath and lost his words for a while, looking at Margo in disbelieve, as she smiled at him even wider. She waited for his reaction, but as it didn't come, she lost her patience and asked in a mocking voice:_  
_„Now, do you know, what are you going to say?”_  
_„Fuck!” – he whispered before reaching for her and lifting her up with a wide grin._  
_„This is not the reaction I expected, me mienne.”_  
_„I... I've never expected... Oh, ma mienne. I love you and I am more happy than I can express.”_  
_„I know” – she replied and kissed him gently – „and now you need to tell them. There are things, which are expected from a father, you know?”_

 

That was certainly a night to remember, as was the morning two years later when he learned, that Margo is pregnant with their second child. Now, their son and daughter were playing with many other children and he could only smile looking at them. But he stopped, noticing four figures approaching the harbour. He wasn't the first to see them, though: Estea left her ship and was now heading in their direction.  
„Dad, I have swords” – Maelor stated approaching him.  
„Take them with you. We have visitors. Elowen?”  
„Yes, uncle?”  
„Make sure, that everyone stays on boats, would you? I need to greet our visitors.”  
„Aye.”

As he approached the group with his son, Estea have been already standing right in front of them and saying in a voice almost as demanding as her mother's:  
„Who are you?”  
„My name is Geralt of Rivia and I'm looking for...”  
„Gwynbleidd” – Iorveth greeted the man – „accompanied by Filavandrel, Lindon and...?”  
„Avallac'h. It's a pleasure to meet you, commander.”  
„I heard of you and you are hardly my favourite person” – he replied to the Elle and turned to the witcher continuing: – „ I'm always happy to see you, Gwynbleidd, but your company is less welcome here.”  
„Dad... you are not polite” – Estea stated looking pointedly at him, what obviously made him chuckle before she continued: – „Do you know these Seidhe?”  
„I thought so, a long time ago, my darling. Now... I am wiser.”  
„Iorveth... we are more than happy to see you. We thought... it's a miracle” – Filavandrel said looking at him and then crouched close to the little girl and asked: – „And what's your name?”  
„Estea. Yours?”  
„Filavandrel aén Fidháil.”  
„Are you from Dol Blathanna?”  
„Yes. I live there, luned.”  
„Are you here with an official visit to my mother?” – Maelor asked.  
Filavandrel stared at the boy and then, at Iorveth. Both Estea and Maelor had his hair, raven-black, only a little bit more curly. The girl had his eyes, as well – in almost exactly the same shade of green, but their son had his mother's dark grey eyes. It wasn't hard to add one to one for the old Seidhe, so he stated:  
„Yes. We came to the jarl, there are things, which we must discuss.”  
„She is waiting for Queen Cerys now. She will be available for you in a few hours” – his son continued in a very serious voice.  
„I see. Would you show us the town in the meantime?” – Filavandrel inquired.  
„Dad?”  
„It's a very good idea, Mael. Take our guests for a tour, I'll talk to Gwynbleidd for a while. Est, go to your mum and tell her, that we have more guests than we expected.”

They all left and Iorveth watched them, as they receded. Then, he looked at the witcher and asked only:  
„What the fuck?”  
„The Gate of the Worlds may be opened again, Ciri and Avallac'h are working on it.”  
„Wow. Margo will be furious.”  
„But you can go.”  
„Where?”  
„Aen Elle world. You can be safe, Iorveth.”  
„What?” – he asked in disbelieve.  
„The Aen Seidhe may leave this world and be safe.”  
„Leave our homes? Are you out of your mind?”  
„Dol Blathanna is attacked constantly... Humans blame elves for Nilfgaardian occupation...”  
„And I care about them, because... Oh! Wait! I don't. We have good lives here.”  
„I can see” – Gwynbleidd stated with a grin – „you have children. I would never believe it, hadn't I see them...”  
„Yeah... I was shocked, too. Believe me.”  
„To be the father of the heir to the jarl's seat of Faroe?”  
„That, too” – Iorveth smiled and stated: – „Come, I need to have an eye on the rest of the kids. They are playing pirates on the boats... You know.... little Skelliger.”  
„Obviously. Other inh'eid or humans, hmm?”  
„And little Seidhe, but come. You'll see. By the way, I haven't a chance to ask you: what happened to your daughter? We feared...”  
„She is fine. We... didn't want to put you in the position, in which you would need to lie to the Emperor.”  
„Oh... I'm glad, that she's fine, my friend” – Iorveth stated and both men smiled at each other.

Geralt was looking at him with a surprise for a while before he followed him to the harbour, answering questions on their way.


	89. Margo Feainn 1283

MARGO

 

Feainn 1283  
forenoon  
near Seidhedol  
Faroe

The pool of the baths in Seidhedol was located in a perfect place with a view on the Great Sea. Cerys was to arrive soon and the baths were emptied for the Queen and the jarl to discuss their business. Margo, obviously, waited for her friend naked in the pool, relishing her free time and remembering the day Iorveth told her to go on the journey of her dreams.

 

_Velen 1279_  
_Harviken_  
_Faroe_

_She was standing at the harbour, looking pensively at the sea. She missed it immensely. The peace with Nilfgaard was still in force and they couldn't ride territories of the Empire, which now included most of the Northern Realms, as well. To go riding further, she would need to leave her family for too long. So... she didn't go for longer voyages at all. But she yearned for the sea and for the adrenaline, which accompanied them as they sailed..._  
_„Margo...” – Iorveth's warm voice called her back to reality._  
_„Hmm?”_  
_„You miss it.”_  
_„I have my family here.”_  
_„But you still yearn for the sea.”_  
_„I love our children and you, me mienne. All of you are what I need.”_  
_„Margo... I know. I'm not saying, that you are a bad mother or wife. But they are at the age when they don't need your constant attention. You can sail, ma mienne.”_  
_„But where? We cannot ride territories close to us and to go further... it will take months.”_  
_„And to go even further probably years” – he finished for her – „I know. Remember when you told me, that there must be something beyond Zerrikania and Haarkland, that maybe it's possible to sail around the Continent?”_  
_„I... obviously. But it will take years!”_  
_„It will. But you'll come back. Kerstin will take the position of the jarl in the meantime and I'll take care of the kids. You should go... it may be now or never, you know it, ma mienne.”_  
_„I... you really...?”_  
_„Yes. Go beyond, ma mienne.”_  
_„You are... the best! I can go in the spring, we'll take two galleys and I'll need no more than twenty-five men in my crew. We have time to make provisions and Lóegairen with Ragnar just finished a new navigational device. We really may be able to... I... wow!” – she said quickly in an excited voice._  
_„You were planning it for years, weren't you?”_  
_„For decades! To be the first to sail around the Continent. I mean...! My father would be so proud...” – she looked at him with a victorious grin, which he hasn't seen for a long time on her face._  
_„Then, it is decided.”_  
_„But... I'll leave you and...”_  
_„No. Stop. We are not your golden cage, ma mienne. I would hate it, if you felt that way. You were there for us in the Pontar Valley, chasing our dreams. Now, go and chase your own dream for a change. I'll stay and take care of the rest.”_

 

They were away from home for two years and came back just six months ago. What they have seen and what spoils they brought back! But most importantly: she was the first captain to do it. As she was pondering, suddenly, she heard footsteps and stated:  
„Cerys! Undress and come here. The water is great.”  
There was no reply, but she heard sounds of pieces of clothing falling to the ground. So she waited, not turning around. Then, she heard two splashes of water and to her uttermost surprise, she saw two blond-haired women resurfacing above the waters of the pool.  
„Cirilla! We thought...”  
„That I died. Well... I'm not the only dead man walking here, am I?”  
„My officers... how?” – the other woman asked.  
Now Margo had time to look at her properly and understood instantly, who she was: the most beautiful woman in the world. And she was a vision to behold. Long golden-blond and waved hair, incredibly pretty face and piercing baby-blue eyes were just the surface, it was her glorious skin and body, which truly granted her the title. As Margo found her voice, she greeted her:  
„Enid an Gleanna. What brings the Queen of Dol Blathanna to my poor Faroe?”  
„My officers.”  
„Well... they are hardly yours any longer...”  
„How?”  
„It's a long story. I had... personal reasons. But either way, they are safe and sound: as citizens of Skellige Isles.”  
„What?!” – Enid asked in shock.  
„You have your customs and laws, and we have ours. Becoming Skelliger was the only way for them to have a fresh start. Now, they are all part of the clan Dimun, only Isengrim chose the clan an Craite... for personal reasons...”  
„Mum!” – Margo turned around, hearing her daughter's voice.  
„Yes, sweetheart?”  
„We have visitors. But I see, that they are already here, as well...”  
„Yes. Do you want to join us?”  
„Yep!”

The girl undressed quickly, jumped to the pool and swam closer to her mother, who introduced her to the guests:  
„Estea, may I introduce: Cirilla and Enid.”  
„Pleasure to make your acquittance.”  
„Likewise, Estea” – Ciri stated with a grin, but Enid didn't speak at all, looking in shock at the little girl.  
„Mum...”  
„Yes?”  
„Dad wasn't polite, as he greeted the rest of the visitors.”  
„Hmm... I'm not surprised, darling.”  
„Why?”  
„Your parents saw many fires of Savoine... The older you get the more complicated the world turns out to be. And your father doesn't like complicated...”  
„But he always says, that you were complicated. And he likes you” – Estea stated and Margo chucked, before replying:  
„It's a different kind of complicated, my dear. But sometimes... sometimes your dad doesn't like me too much, either... especially, when it gets complicated. But enough about us...” – she wanted to continue, but was interrupted by Enid, who understood at last, what she was seeing:  
„Your eyes, luned...” – she paused before inquiring – „is Iorveth your father?”  
„Obviously...” – the girl answered with a stern face – „why?”  
„I... am just surprised.”  
„Why?”  
„I haven't seen your father in a long time... I didn't expect him to have children...”  
„Why?”  
„Not many of us, Aen Seidhe, are blessed with children, luned.”  
„Oh... well, my parents are...”  
„I see” – Enid replied pensively but looked dangerously at Margo.  
„Why are you here, Enid? And Ciri... your father is still looking for you. Coming here... you put us in a difficult position” – Margo stated.  
„I know. But this is more important” – Ciri replied.  
„What is?”  
„The Gate of the Worlds may be opened again. We can leave this world” – Enid stated strongly.  
„We? You mean: Aen Seidhe?”  
„Yes.”  
„Mum... is dad...?” – Estea asked with the horror on her face.  
„Sweetie... your dad would never leave us, my dear” – Margo said hugging her daughter – “and the moment he learns about this conversation, he will be furious” – she added looking at Enid. – „I believe it's time to leave the baths and meet with the rest before Iorveth murders someone...”

She finished talking and took her, still shaking, daughter out of the pool. Then, they all dressed up in silence and headed to Seidhedol.


	90. Cerys Feainn 1283

CERYS

 

Feainn 1283  
noon  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

They were slowly sailing towards Faroe. It was one of the rare opportunities for her and Isengrim to be alone. She set the direction and left the drakkar to sail to the island, while she turned and approached Isengrim with a wicked smile. She didn't even have time to do anything as he lifted her in bridal-style and dropped to the floor of the deck. As they were undressed and she felt his touch on her tights and on her hips she moaned at once.

_How is it possible, that I want you more and more every year, me mienne?_

From this first touch, she knew, that he wanted to take it slow, but it was very far from her desires, so she sat up to him and push him on his back to straddle him immediately. He chuckled in surprise, but the sound changed into a moan as she took him into her hand. His hand moved to her at once and she leaned in to kiss him. Soon, she covered his length and started to move up and down. He sat to her and they both smiled. As they came, she rested her head on his shoulder and remembered their first voyage on the boat.

 

_Lammas 1273_  
_Kaer Trolde_  
_Ard Skellig_

_After the battle in the fjord on Undvik, she came home with Isengrim. Obviously, he stayed in Kaer Trolde for good, becoming part of their community and part of clan an Craite. His presence was as natural, as if he has always been there. Quickly, she became terrified realising how much she grew accustomed to him and how easily she grew close to him._  
_That day, he asked her to take a day off from her duties, so they could sail together for a short trip around the island. She agreed eagerly and soon, they were on the sea, drifting on the drakkar, which was left alone with a set direction, while they were quite occupied otherwise._  
_They were lying now, spent and satisfied, on the deck, looking at each other. He smiled an uncertain smile before asking:_  
_„Will you marry me, Cerys?”_  
_„No” – she replied automatically._  
_„What?” – he asked, staring at her and chuckling in utter surprise._  
_„I barely know you, Isengrim and I've heard this question too many times, asked too lightly. So the answer is: no.”_  
_„So... it's a hard “no” or “not now”?”_  
_„Probably closer to not now.”_  
_„Probably? You are very encouraging today, ma mienne” – he stated, shaking his head._  
_„Do you need encouragement? If so, it's changing to hard “no” extremely fast” – she replied, pursing her lips._  
_„Ma mienne... leave it for now, then.”_  
_„Can I see the necklace?” – she inquired with curiosity._  
_„No” – he replied with a small smile._  
_„Why?”_  
_„Because you won't sleep until you see it. This is a form of persuasion” – he stated in a serious voice, but was grinning widely at her._  
_„I hate it.”_  
_„I know.”_  
_„Maybe you can find another way to persuade me?” – she asked teasingly._  
_„I'm not sure...” – he teased her, as well._  
_„Are you serious?” – she asked in a different voice._  
_„About what?” – he asked, nearing to her and putting his fingers on her most sensitive spot._  
_„I... oh! The question. Oh! Were you serious?” – she asked panting and moaning between her words._  
_„Yes.”_  
_„Why?”_  
_„Why?” – he stopped his hand and looked deep in her eyes before he replied: – „Because I know.”_  
_„You know?” – she asked raising her eyebrows._  
_„Yes.”_  
_„Just like that?”_  
_„Yes” – he replied again and smiled gently: – „I'd rather spend one lifetime with you, than the rest of my life regretting. And we don't have much time...”_  
_„Ask me again, then” – she whispered._  
_„When?”_  
_„Soon... but not today.”_

_They married the same year, obviously. On the same day as Carnelian and Iorveth. The feast lasted for three days and three nights, but in some ways – it never ended._

 

She smiled at her memories and looked at the harbour. As they approached, they noticed the ship, which they didn't recognise. Visitors were arguably rare view on the Isles, however, not impossible. They descended to the quay and started to walk towards the centre of the town. Coming closer to the small square, she felt Isengrim's hand tensing and squeezing her fingers almost painfully. She looked at his face, but it was emotionless. So she looked at the square again and noticed a few unknown figures and judging by their posture, they were Aen Seidhe. But, towards them, walked two smaller figures, both with dark brown, straight hair.  
„Mum, dad! We missed you, but now there are more important matters. We have guests” – Elowen stated in a very serious voice.  
„And uncle Iorveth is not happy...” – Sionann added shaking her head.  
„I don't blame him” – Isengrim replied and reached for their younger daughter, lifting her up.  
„Isengrim... is this...?” – Cerys started.  
„Enid an Gleanna and Filavandrel... yes.”  
„Oh...”  
„Yeah.”

They approached the crowd together, slowly and with reservation. Cerys greeted the beautiful Seidhe:  
„Queen Enid, welcome to Skellige.”  
„Queen Cerys, thank you.”  
„Enid, Filavandrel, Lindon” – Isengrim stated in a dark voice. – „May I introduce: Elowen and Sionann, our daughters...”  
The atmosphere tensed, as their guests had very surprised expressions.

_It will be a very long day..._

„What are you doing here?” – Isengrim demanded in a voice as far from polite as possible.  
„The Gate of the Worlds can be opened, again. We can leave to the Aen Elle world, soon” – Enid replied.  
„What?!” – Isengrim exclaimed in a furious voice. But he calmed down immediately and added: – „We wish you luck on your journey. But we are not going anywhere.”  
„Isn't a save world exactly what we fought for? Is the survival of our race unimportant for you?” – Filavandrel asked in an angry voice.  
„How dare you?!” – Isengrim barked at the older Seidhe.  
Cerys knew, that this discussion is getting out of control and will probably get worse. It would be better if their children didn't hear it, so she stated:  
„Isengrim, take the Seidhe and go. There are things you should discuss in peace.”  
As she watched them moving away with the guests she looked at Carrie and saw the same fear, which crept to her heart, as well.

_What if they give in? What if they leave us?_


	91. Enid Feainn 1283

ENID

 

Feainn 1283  
early afternoon  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

They went into the spruce forest, all completely silent on their way. But as they were far from the town, she turned around to face her people, especially Isengrim, Iorveth and other Scoia'tael commanders. Then, she spoke:  
„Now, we can talk openly.”  
„We could talk openly in Seidhedol, as well” – Coinneach stated.  
„Could we? You did a marvellous job hiding here and waiting. You saved most of our men and I am grateful. But... you had your fun. Now, it's high time to leave and build your lives anew. I understand, that it may have been pleasurable, but your lives here are only a temporary solution. We need to rebuild our society and our race, but it cannot be done here, it must happen in the Aen Elle world. I understand, that you needed to say, what you did around dh'oine. Now, I want to hear from Crevan how soon we may go, so we can prepare.”  
When she finished, a dead silence fell. Absolute silence, but all of her men, who lived on Faroe now, looked dangerously at her. As Isengrim started to speak, his voice was shaking with rage:  
„How dare you, Enid?! Temporary solution? Fun? I have a wife and children here. You think, that I'm going to leave them? Are you retarded?”  
„No, Is” – Iorveth stated – „for her, it's simply irrelevant. As our lives were when she agreed to the Peace of Cintra. She thinks, that she can snap her fingers, use the pro publico bono argument and we will follow her orders, because we have nothing to lose” – he paused huffing – „I'm not speaking for all, Enid. But my life, the only life I'm willing to live, is here: with the woman I love and our children. I plan to die here, at home, Enid.”  
„What?” – she asked. – „Children? Are you talking about those inh'eid? You are still young, Iorveth. You can have pure-blooded Seidhe children and move on. And wife, seriously? This dh'oine of yours with a life-span of a fly? You cannot mean it.”  
„One more word, Enid, and you'll pay for it” – Isengrim stated in a dark and dangerous voice. – „There is nothing more I want to hear from you and I don't want to see your face ever again.”  
„Conclude your business here and leave our home, as soon as possible” – Lóegairen stated in a dark voice and turned around to go back to the town.  
Many followed him, leaving Enid and Filavandrel dumbfounded and speechless. As she gathered herself she asked:  
„Are they serious?”  
„Yes” – Ciaran answered. – „You are a fool to come here like that. Toru? Yeavinn? What about you?”  
„No, Ciaran” – Toruviel stated. – „Lóegairen is right. Our home is here” – she and Yeavinn quickly followed the rest back to the town.

Thankfully, the delegation from Dol Blathanna left the next morning. Their presence on Faroe was quickly forgotten and everything went back to normal.


	92. Hjalmar Birke 1291

Adagio

 

HJALMAR

 

Birke 1291  
evening  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

Cerys, Inga and Margo took the kids and sailed to the Continent. They were planning an official visit and a tour around the Northern Realms and Nilfgaard to take the better part of the year and they were not expected to come back before the winter. His wife, Inga, was thinking for a long time, whether she should go, but the truth was, that she had never left the Islands. It was high time for her to see more of the world. The jarls decided to allow Isengrim to take Cerys position as the interim king and the clan Dimun chose Iorveth to act as the interim jarl. It was more than interesting to have the two Aen Seidhe in the position of authority.  
Obviously, the moment the ships sailed to the Realms, the three men decided to host a feast. Small feast, but still a party. It was two weeks ago, but Iorveth stayed in Kaer Trolde for longer. Now, they were sitting in the main hall of the stronghold with food and mead, again. The dusk was already upon them, as Sven came through the door saying:  
„One of the drakkars came back.”  
„Did something happen?” – Isengrim asked in a concerned voice.  
„They say, that some other ship sunk and Margo decided to help. They found three people, who were trying to sail to Ofrir. But as they were offered refuge on the Islands, they took it.”  
„Refugees?” – Iorveth inquired.  
„Three Aen Seidhe.”  
„Why aren't they in Dol Blathanna?” – Iorveth continued.  
„Maybe you should ask them yourselves?”  
„Bring them here” – Hjalmar ordered.

Sven walked back and came through the door a moment later with three female Seidhe. Hjalmar stopped thinking or breathing the moment he laid his eyes on them. Each of them was extremely beautiful. One had dark-chestnut, long hair, the other auburn and falling in graceful waves hair and the third was blond. He stared at them, gaping and felt immediately, that he should stop or he wouldn't be able to stand up. So, with an enormous effort, he looked down at his mug. Thankfully, Isengrim gathered himself much quicker and stated:  
„Welcome to Skellige. We heard, that you had troubles on the sea. Who are you?”  
„My name is Eilis” – the Seidhe with chestnut hair stated – „this is Granya” – she motioned to the auburn-haired female – „and Nainsi” – she said motioning to the third one. – „Indeed, our ship was destroyed and we would die if it wasn't for jarl Margo. She saved our lives and queen Cerys offered us shelter. We are extremely grateful for that.”  
„Where did you plan to go?” – Iorveth asked.  
„Ofrir” – Granya replied. – „We wanted to leave the Realms.”  
„Why aren't you in Dol Blathanna?” – he continued the interrogation.  
„We...” – Granya started to answer, but paused and looked at her companions before continuing: – „We were exiled.”  
„What?” – Isengrim asked.  
„We... insulted the Queen” – Eilis stated.  
„How?”  
„I... may have got too close to someone...” – Nainsi said slowly.  
„Did you fuck her man? Is that what you are saying?” – Iorveth asked chuckling.  
„And as she wanted to punish her, we stood up. The Queen took it as an insult and sent us away for five years...” – Granya replied.  
„I like all of you more and more every minute” – Iorveth stated still chuckling.  
„And you are more than welcome to stay. We are not friends of Enid, either” – Isengrim added with a grin.  
„Welcome to Kaer Trolde, then. Come and join us” – Hjalmar gathered himself and invited them jovially.  
„Thank you, jarl” – Nainsi replied with a sweet smile.  
„Hjalmar, we don't use titles here, on Skellige.”  
„Pleasure to make your acquittance, Hjalmar.”  
„The pleasure is all mine, Nainsi.”

They spent almost the whole night in the main hall talking merrily and laughing. The Seidhe were a great company, eager to listen to their tales about Skellige and the war. As it turned out in the course of the evening, however they were elves, they were quite young, even younger than his younger sister.


	93. Iorveth Birke 1291

IORVETH

 

Birke 1291  
the next morning  
Kaer Trolde  
Ard Skellig

The stronghold of Kaer Trolde had many advantages, but the biggest was its baths. He could spend hours there and rarely had the time to do it. Now, he had. But as he was sitting alone, leisurely spread in the water, he heard the crack of the door. He turned his head to see Granya walking in. When she noticed him, she smiled an unsure smile and said:  
„Ceád'mil. I can come back later...”  
„The baths here are public, luned and as a Seidhe I doubt, that you are so shy.”  
„I don't want to disturb you.”  
„Don't be silly.”  
She smiled again and started to undress. Then, he understood his mistake.

_Well... beautiful little thing, I must admit. This perfect skin, alluring shapes and... she is so young._

He was observing her as she got to the bath at the opposite side. She was looking at him curiously, too. But she quickly averted her gaze to look through the window. He took a few deep breaths and looked away, as well.

_Margo is gone for two weeks and I am... a terrible person. We stayed true to each other for eighteen years... Why am I even thinking about it now? Granya... She is young, probably Margo's age, when we first met... twenty-eight years ago. I'm a horrible person._

It was Granya, who brought him back from his thoughts:  
„You are acting as the jarl of Faroe now, yes?”  
„Yes, I am.”  
„I thought, that only Skelliger can become a jarl.”  
„First of all, I am Skelliger. Secondly, I'm only acting as a jarl in my wife's absence.”  
„Wife? I mean... are you truly married?”  
„Obviously.”  
„I mean, in accordance with our traditions?”  
The moment she said it, he held his breath. They didn't even think about it, but... she was right. His marriage, Isengrim's marriage in the eyes of his people didn't mean a thing. What's more... his children were not legally his. Everything they've built here was just for show in a way. It wasn't real for any other Aen Seidhe.  
„I'm sorry. It's not my business. I shouldn't pry...” – Granya stated in a sad voice.  
„It's not your fault” – he replied.  
„Tell me about Faroe and Seidhedol...”  
„Well” – he chuckled – „Faroe is smaller than Ard Skellig. It's covered in the spruce forests, too. The Scoia'tael started to build Seidhedol in 1269 as they first arrived in Skellige. Now, it's the biggest town on the island.”  
„You didn't arrive with them?” – she asked surprised.  
„No... I was injured and hidden for a long time. They had left Northern Realms before I was healed and started to build my commando anew.”  
„So, when did you come to Skellige?”  
„In 1272.”  
„Oh...” – she paused and continued: – „Can I come with you, to Faroe? To see Seidhedol” – she asked smiling widely.  
„Sure.”  
„Do you sail?”  
„It's hard to travel in the archipelago by any other mean of transportation. I may not be a pirate and I'm far from my wife's skills and experience, but I can sail a bit” – he stated smiling.  
„Carnelian is a legend and I've heard, that she sailed, as the first and only known captain, around the Continent. Is that true?”  
„Yes” – he replied proudly. – „Ten years ago.”  
„Did you sail with her?”  
„No. I stayed with children and Kerstin, my mother-in-law.”  
„And now, she is far away again... It must be hard for her and for you.”  
„We have time and we are hardly love-sick puppies any longer. Frankly, we never were.”  
„Do you like it?”  
„What?”  
„Time-off each other, time to be on your own?” – she asked this question casually, with a small smile and a genuine interest.  
„For a while” – he chuckled – „but then, soon, it's terribly boring with no one to argue with. And I've missed Maelor and Estea the moment they got on the ship... But this is probably for the best, they'll have their own lives very soon and overprotective father is never helpful...” – he paused smiling before he continued: – „Tell me about your parents.”  
„My father was fighting during the war and died. I was five. I... remember watching the stars with him and hunting. But, it was a long time ago... My mother is the kindest person I know, but after my father's death... she became sad and distanced. Not for me, but we lived in a remote cottage and as we came to Dol Blathanna she didn't speak to anyone but me. She told me once, that if it wasn't for me, she wouldn't want to live... But look at me: you are a living legend of the fight for freedom of our people. My stories are trifles in comparison...”

They spent hours in baths conversing about diverse subjects. Granya was a great listener and had a few interesting stories of her own. She was kind and gentle, obviously impressed by his tales and the mere fact, that she knew of him long before they've met. She never mocked him and she never even had a different opinion. She was everything, that Margo wasn't.


	94. Ronja the night of Belleteyn 1291

RONJA

 

the night of Belleteyn 1291  
Harviken  
Faroe

The interim jarl came back form Kaer Trolde with two Seidhe females. Nainsi was a good company, but Ronja disliked Granya the second she saw her. Even Sven's assurances, that Margo invited them to Faroe herself was not enough for her. But she didn't speak against it. They were invited to stay in the guest rooms of the jarl's house until they figure out what they want to do next. But Ronja knew, that Granya was exactly, where she wanted to be. It wasn't anything particular she did or said, but... Ronja had this feeling.  
This year the night of Belleteyn was celebrated in Harviken. There were food, alcohol and bonfires. The weather was unexpectedly good that night. She was observing her sons, almost grown-up men by now and both already warriors of the clan Dimun, while they were flirting shamelessly with two girls. They got so much from their father...  
„Viggo!” – she called her husband.  
„My dear? Is everything all right?” – he replied quickly.  
„Yeah... I'm just thinking...”  
„About what?”  
„What will happen after Margo is gone...”  
„She still has some years to spend with us, Ronja. Don't worry... and we may go first, you know?”  
„But... Maelor and Estea... They both could be excellent jarls. Still, they are inh'eid. They...”  
„Skelliger don't care. You know it. We all accepted Aen Seidhe as part of our community. All agreed to her marriage and their kids are treated as heirs to the jarl's seat. It will be fine, my dear.”  
As they were talking, suddenly, Iorveth approached them smiling:  
„Ronja and Viggo!”  
„Iorveth” – Viggo greeted him – „the feast is amazing.”  
„Thank you, many were working hard to prepare it, as always. How was your voyage? I heard, that you got as far as to Ofrir.”  
„Yes, we did. We brought spoils, but we want to wait for Margo.”  
„Obviously” – he replied smiling – „your sons are the best young pirates we have.”  
„I understand Holger more and more. Pirating with children is even better, than without them. We were both so proud” – Viggo stated and they all laughed.  
„Iorveth!” – it was Granya, who called him and he turned around, as she asked with a wide grin: – „Would you dance?”  
„Excuse me, my friends” – the Seidhe said and bowed his head slightly, leaving them and approaching the young girl with an extended hand.  
„Sure” – Viggo replied and a smirk crept on his face.  
„I don't like her” – Ronja stated in a dark voice.  
„Obviously. But she is just a girl, my dear. Nothing more.”  
„What do you mean?”  
„Margo is gone for a while... I...”  
„What? Understand? Viggo! If this girl would get pregnant with his child! He's not a free man!”  
„You think, that Margo didn't anticipate it? We both know very well, what he was doing privately the last time she left for so long...”  
„But it was different! No child would come of that! And she accepted it, long time ago. We all did, as... exotic it may be for us. But, this young Seidhe may be a problem. I doubt, if she would accept this. And...”  
„What?”  
„We both know, that he would never leave her for Ciaran... but this girl...”  
„You think, that he would leave his family for this young girl? No... he chose to grow old with Margo and I don't believe, that he would ever change his mind.”  
„Exactly! She is growing old, gave birth to two children. She doesn't look like twenty-five any more... He does.”  
„Ronja, give him some more credit. You remember as well as I do, what she did and said to him, more than once. He still decided to marry her the moment he came back. They were made for each other.”  
„Maybe they were. The question is, if they still are...?”

Viggo looked at her in disbelieve, but said nothing and they changed the subject of the conversation quickly. Too afraid to continue it.


	95. Iorveth the night of Belleteyn 1291

IORVETH

 

the night of Belleteyn 1291  
Harviken  
Faroe

He was exhausted. This night he spent overseeing the preparations, taking part in the feast and keeping the distance from Granya. It almost worked, until she asked him to dance with her. She was so young, so happy and so full of life. The Belleteyn fires were glittering in her eyes every time she moved, every moment she smiled. They grew close during the last weeks, friendly close. Nothing more. But he couldn't stop himself from noticing her... more, than he should.  
Finally, he could get to his bed, but sleep simply refused to come. He was staring at the ceiling, as he heard the crack of the door. He was afraid to look, but curiosity won quickly. Granya stood by his bed, naked and with a playful smile. They looked at each other for a while. She took it for an invitation and straddled him, tilting her head. He wanted her, that was obvious for both of them and his desire took over him too quickly. His hands moved on their own accord to her tights, her hips, her waist. The warmth of her body, radiating from silk-like skin, almost caused him to shiver. She was observing his face, probably displaying the internal struggle between his desire and his obligations. But, as it turned out quickly, she didn't care too much. She moved down, uncovered him and took him into her mouth, causing him to moan instantly. Soon, he stopped thinking at all and allowed his instincts to take over completely.  
Iorveth touched her cheek, motioning her up. She followed immediately with a smile on her lips. He sat, facing her and said:  
„Turn around” – her smile turned into a very wicked one, but she obliged.  
As he knelt behind her and saw her exquisite bottom tilted so welcomingly to him, he moved his hand to her clitoris quickly, but she was more than ready for him, already. After just a few movements of his fingers, he entered her swiftly and smiled at the sound of her soft moan. His right hand went to her back, between her shoulder-blades, pushing her down slightly and changing the angle of his penetration. His other hand stayed on her clitoris, drawing small circles. They made love slowly and without urgency. She came first with another gentle moan, his hands moved then to her hips and he accelerated his movements to come a few minutes later. Afterwards, he slid out of her quickly and collapsed on the bed, taking a few deep breaths. Then, he turned to his side to look at her. Her baby-blue eyes were still hazed and she laid on her stomach fully relaxed. His hand rested on her back, tracing gently her skin. She looked in his eye and said:  
„I like you, Iorveth. More, than I should.”  
„And I want you, much more, than I should.”  
„I... no one will know.”  
„Stop. I know, luned. But leave it, right now... I don't want to care.”

He turned her around and moved to lay on the top of her. She looked pensively at him, but smiled, encircling her legs around his waist and her hands around his neck. He smiled at her mischievously and leaned in to whisper in her ear:  
„You will need those hands, luned.”  
She chuckled, but the sound changed quickly to a moan as his hand sneaked in between them to her most sensitive spot. He didn't need to wait for too long for her to be wet and asked:  
„How flexible are you?”  
„Very, very flexible” – she replied with a grin.  
„Let's see, then...”  
He moved her right leg from his back to his shoulder, grabbed her bottom and entered her easily, tilting her a little bit to change the angle. He grabbed her hip and smiled again, before starting to move. She tried to move to him, but quickly understood, that in this position, there is not much she could do. As she looked confused at him he only said:  
„Touch yourself. My hand is quite occupied with your arse, right now.”  
She did as he told her. Confused at first, but quickly enjoying the experience immensely. Obviously, she came much faster, than previously. Her moan this time was different: less controlled and studied, more natural. He followed her after some time, looking in her eyes and to his and her surprise, she came again, simultaneously with him.  
As he collapsed back on the bed, she moved to a half-lying position and asked, looking down at him:  
„Why did you tell me to do it?”  
„You've never done this before, have you? And you would probably never do it on your own, even if you wanted to. But it works wonders.”  
„I... but this was...”  
„What?”  
„Exiting. Surprising.”  
„Hmm...” – he smiled at her gently.  
But there must have been something in his eye, because she stated:  
„I will go to sleep. Night, Iorveth.”  
„Night, luned.”  
When she left him alone in his room, he exhaled with difficulty, still lying on his back, looking at the ceilings and clenching his fists around the material of his sheet.

_Oh, Margo... I will burn this bed before you'll come back and I promise we'll stay away from our bedroom._  
_This girl... she reminds me so much of me before you. En'ca minne... I miss my youth even more than I miss yours. When did we get so old? When did we cease to be surprised and excited? Me – decades ago, you – I doubt, that you were ever like that: young, naïve, sweet. No... probably never._


	96. Ciaran the night of Midaëte 1291

CIARAN

 

the night of Midaëte 1291  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

Nainsi was living permanently with Lóegairen by now. It was quite incredible how quickly those two fitted. The blond-haired beauty was a quiet, but determined person, she was also kind and intelligent. And it was nice to be in her company. Still, she had a secret, he could tell. But, he didn't know what it was, so he has never spoken with Lóegairen about it. The two spent most of their time on the sea, either way. And when they were in town, they were always together, inseparable.  
Granya was another story. They've met the next day after the Belleteyn night.

 

 _On the early morning, she was sitting by the spruce and playing the lute, as he approached her with a smile:_  
_„You must be Nainsi's friend, Granya?”_  
_„Yes” – she replied with a warm smile – „a pleasure to meet you, Ciaran. Am I right?”_  
_„How could you know?”_  
_„Iorveth spoke a lot about you on our way from Ard Skellig.”_  
_„Hmm... good things, I hope.”_  
_„Well... he said, that you had been his second in command and that you were a great swordsman.”_  
_„Obviously... the only thing he can talk about is fighting. No wonder, that they argue with Margo so much. In the absence of the real war, they need to create some, even the smallest. It keeps them alive... they were truly made for each other.”_  
_„But you are close to him, too. Aren't you?”_  
_„From time to time” – he replied with a small smile. – „Much less since he found out, that she is alive.”_  
_„Does it bother her?”_  
_„That he is bisexual?”_  
_„That he is cheating on her.”_  
_„Neither sees it as cheating. She is bisexual, too. And hardly a saint...”_  
_„And other men? Is she...?”_  
_„Not since she learned, that he is alive.”_  
_„Wow. But before?”_  
_„Maybe...” – he paused, looking at her pointedly. – „No one will speak to you about it here.”_  
_„Why?”_  
_„It's complicated.”_  
_„And he, is he... faithful?”_  
_„From the time, when they found each other again, twenty years ago. I truly understand your curiosity. If you knew them better, you would understand how fascinating they are...”_

_She lowered her eyes and looked at the ground pensively. He sat next to her, watching her with curiosity. He rarely considered women desirable, but this Seidhe... she was so graceful, so delicate, so talented and so extremely beautiful... To his own surprise, he started to think about her differently, since this very moment._

 

They spent more and more time together. He realised, that under this soft shell, there is a determined mind and a strong heart. She had a secret, too, something in her screamed it to him every time he looked in her blue eyes. They were growing closer gradually, with no rush and no need, almost casually. She never touched him and to tell the truth, the mere thought sometimes terrified him, but... he wanted it.  
The previous day, Nainsi finished her first solo sailing and they decided to celebrate. The wine was poured generously and all got drunk quickly. The party was just moving from the harbour to the town, as Granya looked at him intently, but lowered her gaze quickly. He came to her and stated:  
„Come for a walk. We need some air, don't you think?” – he offered. She looked at him and nodded with a small smile.

They walked far and got to the foot of the cliff. As they climbed it, he offered her his hand and helped her up. Suddenly, she stood so close to him, that he almost stopped breathing. He held her hand close to his chest and could smell her sweet scent. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself and absent-mindedly cupped her face with his free hand. She looked up at him in surprise, but leaned in to his touch with a sigh. So he leaned in to her and caught her lips with his. They kissed gently, softly. It was probably the most delicate kiss in his life. It didn't lack passion, but it reminded him more of a promise of spring than a hot summer day. She didn't burn him and she didn't devour him, but she was there and she was for him.  
After a time, they separated and she looked at him gratefully. It was strange, as if she needed this kiss much more, than he wanted it and he wanted it a lot. But, a moment later, her gentle smile was back on her lips and she moved to look at the sea:  
„It always terrifies me: the sea. The power, that can devour me and doesn't care about anything at all.”  
„You are just not used to it. Skelliger are one with the sea and it gives them strength.”  
„In my case... I feel like it was taking it. Like a vampire...”  
„I felt like that once, many years ago - loving a man, who not only was taking from me, but also didn't love me back... You know... I was actually happy to meet Margo.”  
„Didn't she take Iorveth from you?”  
„Yes. This is why I was... relieved. When she came, I knew, that it would end. That I'll be free again. What's even funnier, we became very close, very soon and I understood: she was just the same as he. They thrived on the arguments, fighting and taking from each other. She wanted from him things, that terrified me in him. After she came, our relationship became... healthier.”  
„I wish I met you in Dol Blathanna...”  
„Why?”  
„There is no sea...” – she stated sadly and looked at him before she continued: – „Come, we should head back.”

They were silent on their way back to the town. As they came there, he saw Iorveth, who was leaning on one of the houses with a glass of wine in his hand and conversing with Ragnar. He looked in their direction, stared at Granya and at him for a long time, before he looked back at his interlocutor. Granya held her breath and made a fake smile, quickening her pace. Ciaran acted on instinct and grabbed her arm:  
„Are you sleeping with him?”  
She didn't answer, just took her hand from him and approached the older Seidhe, joining him in the conversation with Ragnar. Iorveth went for a glass of wine for her and they stood closely together at the edge of the gathering. Then, Ciaran understood, that the answer was: yes.

 

That day, at midday, Isengrim arrived with Eilis - a chestnut-haired beauty. She greeted her friends and Isengrim approached Iorveth with a fake smile on his lips. Quickly, it was replaced by a genuine one, but for Ciaran it was obvious, that something was wrong.  
After dinner, they all stayed in the main square of Seidhedol. Ciaran was avoiding Iorveth and Granya, so he stayed close to Lóegairen, Yeavinn and Toruviel, but regretted it, soon. They seated themselves close to Isengrim and Eilis, who were... close. One look at her face was enough for Ciaran to know, that the last month has changed everything for everyone. So, as Toruviel started to play the lute, he took his flute and asked her:  
“Maybe Stella Splenders?”  
“You're thinking, what I'm thinking, aren't you?” – she replied slowly, looking at him and at Iorveth and Isengrim pensively.  
“I know it for a fact.”  
“Fuck. They will kill them both” – she paused and looked back at her best friend sighing: – “All right.”

As they started to play, he observed Iorveth intently. He didn't recognise the tune right away. But as he did... he looked at Granya and lowered his gaze, before meeting Ciaran's eyes. He had never seen his commander ashamed, until that day.


	97. Isengrim the night of Midaëte 1291

ISENGRIM

 

the night of Midaëte 1291  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

He observed the silent scene between Iorveth and Ciaran with curiosity. There was only one explanation as to why his best friend would react this way to this tune: he did, what Isengrim had done, too. Three young Seidhe, which came two months ago to Kaer Trolde, seemed to find their place quickly... in their beds. As Toruviel and Ciaran finished, he approached Iorveth and they decided to take a walk. Both were silent for a long time, but Isengrim stated at last:  
“I did it, too.”  
“I thought so, as I saw your face when you descended from the boat. Was it worth it?”  
“No. Ciaran knows...”  
“To my utter surprise, I think, that he is falling for Granya... We were very careful, but he knows me too well not to notice.”  
“What now?”  
“I need to burn my bed.”  
“You think, that this is going to help?”  
“No. But I'll feel better and I'll stop. You?”  
“I've already had a conversation with Eilis. We no longer...”  
“I've never felt so ashamed... What this woman has done to me?”  
“Granya?”  
“No. Margo...”  
“Oh...” – Isengrim chuckled – “you love her”.  
“Somehow I doubt, that it changes anything... She won't forgive me for that.”  
“You plan to...?”  
“Obviously. You don't?”  
“I do, though... I may not survive long after that. Cerys is... principled.”  
“Burn the bed. It will help.”

They both laughed, but burned the bed, either way, late in the night. After that, they stayed in the harbour, drinking wine after wine until the sunrise. They barely spoke, but... it was always easier together.

The following day before the noon, he was sitting with Iorveth again in Margo's cottage, which was usually used by children now. Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. It was Coinneach with eyebrows raised very high, asking from the doorstep:  
“Why are you hiding here?”  
“Ceád'mil to you, too... We are not. We're staying in peace and quiet” – Iorveth stated.  
“Your girls were looking for both of you” – Neach stated in a mocking voice. – “You thought, that I wouldn't notice? Idiots... As we are talking about it... what were you thinking about? I leave for a year to stay on An Skellig and as I come back, I learn things like that.”  
“Let it go, Neach. We know. We learned, all right?” – Isengrim replied coldly.  
“You learned nothing the last time, Is...” – all three looked at one another. – “And you, Iorveth... you didn't learn as well. You both used two young girls for what? Your pleasure? Your wives left two months ago for gods' sake! I remember as Margo left for two years and you didn't do things like that. Now, she is to come back in winter.”  
“I know. I... am getting old, Neach.”  
“Ah... the midlife crisis. Try telling Margo that. I'll love to watch her reaction.”  
“Like: rather end-of-your-life crisis... yeah. I cannot wait for her reaction, as well” – Iorveth stated with resignation.  
“Come to the beach, we'll think what to do. It's always easier near the sea...” – Neach stated and left.

They followed him slowly and sat on the beach. No one spoke,they were all deep in their thoughts and observed seagulls. Then, they heard footsteps and turned around. It was Ciaran and Lóegairen, accompanied by Eilis, Granya and Nainsi. All with serious faces and to his surprise, Lóegairen had even furious expression.  
“There is something you need to hear” – Lóegairen stated with anger. – “But, don't react too harshly.”  
“What?” – Iorveth asked in a dangerous voice.  
“Enid an Gleanna is coming to Faroe, today. She wanted to force you to come with us” – Nainsi stated – “to Tir ná Liá.”  
“How did she plan to do it?” – Isengrim asked in disbelieve.  
“Sleeping potion. The one I got from Mousesack for my supposed insomnia” – Nainsi replied.  
“Given in wine, in our bedrooms, by our lovely friends: Eilis, Granya and yourself” – Lóegairen said to her and his voice shook with anger.  
“Yes. We were sent here to do, what we did” – she continued in a tense voice.  
“So you played us and were to finish your job last night. Why didn't' you?” – Iorveth asked Granya, absolutely furious.  
“Stella Splenders” – she replied.  
“You have no right to even mention her” – he barked.  
“I may have seduced you, but you were hardly fighting me, Iorveth. You did, what you did, despite your love for your wife. So don't attack me. You are angry at yourself. I must remind you, that as Aen Seidhe – it's in our nature!”  
“Our nature...” – Iorveth started, furious.  
“Iorveth, enough” – Isengrim interrupted, putting his hand on the younger Seidhe shoulder – “there is a more important question now: why?”  
“The Gate will be opened, we can leave and Enid wants to take everyone. If you were to go, everyone would follow” – Eilis replied.  
“But if not?”  
“Many would think twice.”  
“Ciaran” – Iorveth stated, looking at the younger Seidhe – “I... thank you. I owe you everything...”  
“I know.”  
“Coinneach, go for Mousesack and tell him to get Margo, Cerys and the kids through a portal. Now” – Iorveth continued.  
“Aye.”  
“Iorveth...” – Ciaran said looking at him with sad eyes.  
“I will miss you immensely” – the older Seidhe stated with a sad smile and sorrow in his eye.


	98. Margo Feainn 1291

MARGO

 

Feainn 1291  
Seidhedol  
Faroe

Her heart was heavy for some time by now... The fear was becoming overwhelming, but it was the very reason, why she did it in the first place. His fear terrified her, as well. One of them must lose and she hoped, that she can spare him that pain. But... there were boundaries and she would do anything to make sure, that he wouldn't try to cross them.  
Now, she recognised his figure the moment she left the portal. Next to him stood Isengrim. Cerys walked by her side in silence with an expressionless face. The face, which terrified even Margo. They approached their husbands slowly. All unsure, what would happen next. She asked coldly:  
“Why did you ask for the kids?”  
“I... what?” – Iorveth asked shocked, utterly confused.  
“Why did you ask for the kids?” – she repeated the question in a stronger voice.  
“I... wanted them to come...” – he replied, still confused.  
“They are save in Vergen. They are not coming” – she stated coldly, but calmly, with strength in her voice, which surprised even her husband.  
“Margo?” – he asked, blinking a few times, trying to wrap his mind around her line of thinking.  
“They are not going anywhere. They are my children.”  
“What? Margo...” – he paused as he realised what she was thinking. His face turned into horror before he continued: – “Did you seriously think, that I would do something like that? To you? To them? Is that how much you don't trust me?”  
He was watching her with a terrified expression. Pain, fear and anger were visible in his eye and in his features. He was disappointed in her, in himself, in their relationship, in everything. But she felt relief... her worst fears were just in her head. The question remained: was her smaller, but still terrifying fears unreal, as well? She waited for him to speak, trying to keep her face emotionless. As he spoke, she heard the resignation in his voice:  
“I'm not leaving, too. Not, unless you ask me to go and the only place I would go then, is Vergen.”  
“OK” – she stated coldly, but her heart started to beat normally again and she could breathe much easier.  
He was still observing her closely, thinking hard and his face became emotionless, again. As he spoke, his voice was dangerously cold and quiet:  
“You knew... you sent her here fully aware, what will happen. You let me go, again... What is wrong with you?”  
“Me? Did I fuck the first man, whom I've met as I left?” – she asked with growing anger.  
“No, you cheat on me only with my friends” – he replied furiously – “but it's beside the point now. You didn't answer my question.”  
She didn't reply right away, looking at his angry expression with a tense face, but she spoke at last:  
“I will die, me mienne. I will leave you, much too soon. I thought, that...” – she started calmly, but he interrupted her quickly:  
“You are making decisions for me, again. You know... I'm tired of you, your attitude, your arguing and constant fighting. Sometimes I hate you, truly” – he stated with a blank voice and paused before he continued: – “But the truth is, that I love you and I would never trade even a few more years with you for a twenty-something-years-old. If you believed otherwise, you are a fool” – he stated and they both started to laugh almost hysterically.

She wanted to be angry, she wanted to do and say many things, which she forgot momentarily, as she was in his arms, kissing him fiercely.

_The time stopped... Like all those years ago, like every time I was sure I lost you, only to find you again. Maybe you will stay with me until the end. Maybe it's high time I believe in you._

As they separated, he said in a sad voice:  
“Ciaran is leaving, Margo. This is why I wanted kids here, to allow them to say goodbye...”  
“Oh... Yes... Mousesack! Go for the kids, please. Tell them, that we'll stay on Faroe for a while” – she called to the druid, who nodded and left.  
Then, she turned back to Iorveth and stated without emotions:  
“I am angry.”  
“I know.”  
“It won't be easy.”  
“I know.”  
“But you are right, I... suspected why they came.”  
“Did you suspected, that they were to drug us and help Enid to tie us up and take us by force?”  
“What?!” – she exclaimed and continued furiously: – “I will kill that woman. She is not to set a foot on my island or I'll cut it off.”  
“Only Ciri will be allowed on the ground, boys in the port were informed.”

She heard footsteps and turned to see Granya, the girl she's met and saved a few months ago. She suspected, that it was her: her hair betrayed her the moment they've met and now, her eyes were telling Margo the whole story, so she started:  
“Iorveth, please leave us for a moment.”  
“Obviously” – he replied, but looked at both women concerned before he retreated.  
“I am sorry” – the young Seidhe stated.  
“I know. You are ashamed, sorry and you regret the night you slept with him for the first time. Not only, because you are now facing his wife, who is hardly a monster or filth worthy of your contempt, but also because he took his toll on you. He took much more from you than he could possibly give, so you are tired, confused and you feel used. I can see that. You regret falling for him, even though you knew, that he would never be yours. You lost during this mission much more than you bargained for” – Margo paused, looking with a scrutinising gaze at the girl, who shrunk in herself and looked beyond hurt. – “Why did you do it for Enid?”  
“Nainsi...”  
“What's with her?”  
“She killed someone. She would be executed. We... fought for her...”  
“… insulting the Queen. I understand. What will happen to her now?”  
“Why do you care?”  
“Because I care for my people and for my guests.”  
“We failed.”  
“I see” – Margo paused again, pensive, but even she felt, that her features relaxed. – “I'm observing Ciaran right now. I can see, how he looks at you. He is twice the man as me and my husband combined. Don't hurt him, Granya” – Margo stated and paused watching small smile creeping at the girls face. – “I wish you a lot of luck, luned.”  
“May I ask you something?” – Granya inquired.  
“Yes.”  
“How can you do it?”  
“What?”  
“Love him and be happy...”  
“Ah... a funny question from the lover to the wife, wouldn't you agree?” – Margo mocked, but continued. – “Now, you understand the nature of the power-play. You need to calculate, all the time, what to give and what to take. The alternative is being consumed by his needs and desires, strength and controlling nature. The day I've met him, I knew, that I met someone, who won't make me ashamed...”  
“Of what?”  
“My needs and desires, my strength and controlling nature” – the older woman replied and smiled at the girl, whose expression now indicated, that she is trying to understand.

Margo walked to Lóegairen, but he started:  
„I'm staying.”  
„Obviously, Faroe is your home.”  
„Toruviel and Yeavinn are staying, too.”  
„Good. Armann is in love with Estea, I would hate to see those two separated.”  
„Wow.”  
„Yeah... they were sneaking into the forest all the time. I was so worried, that I had them guarded... secretly. And I'm still not sure how to tell Iorveth, but it's not the time for it... yet.”  
„But many will go, Margo. They want...”  
„… to be sure, that they are safe longer than my life-span. I know and I understand. I'm getting older and so is Cerys” – she paused and looked at him pointedly, before asking: – „Did Nainsi tell you the whole story?”  
„What do you...?”  
„She is looking at you with a terrible sorrow.”  
„What story?”  
„She is facing execution, if she goes back to Enid.”  
„What?” – he asked surprised.  
„If I asked her to stay, would you...?”  
„She betrayed us, me...”  
„My husband betrayed me. Am I bitching now?”  
„No...” – he paused looking at Margo pensively before he stated with resignation: – „Allow her to stay.”  
„I will.”

She saw Ciaran standing a few meters from them. They looked at each other for a long time before she called:  
„Tequila time?”  
„Sure!” – he called back.

So they drunk and cried together. For one last time. They couldn't speak too much, but both knew: they will miss each other... immensely.


	99. Cerys Feainn 1291

CERYS

 

Feainn 1291  
Harviken  
Faroe

The road from the jarl's hall to the beach seemed terribly long that time. She was walking slowly with Margo, but couldn't speak... Not yet. Most of the Aen Seidhe left Skellige a month ago. The whole Isles and Faroe especially, became terribly quiet. Everything was different now.  
They saw the beach from afar and Cerys stopped suddenly. Margo stopped as well and looked sadly at her. Cerys asked slowly:  
„How did you do it?”  
„I... was more afraid of the future, than angry about the past...”  
„And...”  
„As always, my dear. Nothing has changed, truly. They are gone, Cerys.”  
„Are they? I still feel their presence every time I think...”  
„It's only in your head. I'm not telling you to forget and forgive, but it's time to make some decisions. At least, to try to...”  
„I'm not sure, what is the best option. To talk? What can I hear?”  
„Nothing new... Cerys, I am the last person to push you. We can go back to the house and drink too much of beer, we can sail at once... Anything you need” – Margo stated in a concerned voice, looking at her with tensed features.  
„I don't know what I want... What kind of a queen am I?”  
„This is not politics. This is personal and we are both terrible at personal...”  
„Yeah... maybe we made a mistake all those years ago?”  
„Maybe... But we wouldn't have our incredible children” – her cousin smiled fondly at her and she couldn't help, but smiled, too.  
„I still can't believe, that he... they...” – she said in a heavy voice, shaking her head. – „I'm so terribly alone.”  
„I know.”

They approached the beach together and saw both of them sitting there. They didn't notice their presence, deep in the conversation. Suddenly, Lóegairen called from behind them:  
„Are you sailing today?”  
She turned around to see him standing and hugging Nainsi closely, they were both grinning widely. It was Margo, who called back:  
„No, go! Have some time alone” – they all chuckled.  
But Cerys turned back to look at the beach. Isengrim was standing right now and Iorveth approached her and Margo with a sad smile. As he got closer, he stated:  
„He'll wait for you. As long as you need. You are not obliged to go there, Cerys. Don't feel that way.”  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she started to walk towards her husband. She heard Margo's and Iorveth's footsteps, as they left them alone.  
Isengrim... He was standing with a sad smile, waiting for her to approach. The last time they spoke, she shouted to him to stay within ten meters from her, so she didn't expect anything else. But, she came closer and stood in front of him, looking him in the eyes. He swallowed before he said:  
„I am sorry, Cerys. I... don't know what else to say.”  
„Why, Isengrim? Why did you do it?”  
„I... you weren't there.”  
„Is this an explanation? It was OK, because I haven't seen it?”  
„No. But she was there and...”  
„… she was young and beautiful and all the things I am no longer.”  
„New. She was new.”  
„So you are bored.”  
„Not in this way... But I wanted to feel it again.”  
„What?”  
„Youth. How it was when I was young.”  
„It's still an excuse.”  
„It is, but it's true. I love you, Cerys. It was never about you or her. It was about me. I'm ashamed and sorry. I shouldn't have done it, but I did. There is nothing more I can tell you.”  
„So what now? Did you think for a moment what would happen after?”  
„No. I wasn't thinking at all, but it's hardly surprising for you, I guess.”  
„It wasn't a one-night-stand! You were practically living together. In our home!”  
„I... realised, that as it happened once, you would be still angry, so...”  
„It happened twice and again and again, and I'm only more angry. It's pathetic.”  
„I agree.”  
„If you try this again you will lose your wife” – she stated and left him, going back to the town, but she heard his footsteps, as he was following her to take her hand and walk back together.

As they walked, first clouds started to gather on the midday sky. The rays of the sun were still shining on her face, but she saw more white and fluffy clouds coming from the West.

_Please... let it rain again..._


	100. Velen 1461

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.

THE SKELLIGER TALES

 

Epilogue

 

SUN

 

 

Velen 1461  
Harviken  
Faroe

 

A five-years-old girl was playing on the main square of the city with her cousins. They were running and laughing, trying to catch one another. The game was as old as the world itself, but its rules never changed. After a while, they all sat down by the statue, located in the centre of the main square and started to talk:  
„I will sail around the Continent one day!” – Cillaen said.  
„And I will be the Ruling Queen” – Sheridan exclaimed.  
„I will sail around the world” – Pantea stated in a very serious voice.  
„Silly, it's not possible” – Sheridan scolded her.  
„Why not?”  
„No one did it before” – Ketill joined the conversation.  
„So?” – Pantea insisted.  
„If it was, she would do it” – Cillaen stated, pointing at the statue.

All of the children looked up at the spectacular statue made from black granite. It represented a woman and a man. She was wearing trousers and a long coat, her double-swords were crossed on her back. Her medium-cut, curly hair adorned her beautiful face in a mess. Her right hand was pointing North-West, while the other rested on the hand of the man behind her. Her head was tilted slightly to the left and she was looking somewhere in between the direction, which she was pointing to and the man hugging her so closely. He was wearing a shorter coat and a bandanna, from under which only a few medium-cut and almost straight hair were escaping. He had a longbow and arrows on his back, and incredibly handsome face with pointy ears. Both of his hands rested on her belly and he was leaning in to her, almost touching her left cheek with his right. But, he wasn't looking in the pointed direction, he was looking at her with a fond smile.  
He was observing the children as he heard the footsteps. When he turned around, he saw his friend approaching him slowly. They smiled and he stated:  
„We should go to them. They seem to misunderstand the statue...”  
„Aye... it happens in Kaer Trolde, too. They say, that she is pointing at Undvik, as the commemoration of the battle. But Undvik is West from the Island, not North-West... Fools...”  
„But they are just children, we can make it clear for them.”  
„We should. As fast as we can... Our time is nearing, too.”  
„I know. I feel it in the air and I feel it in the water... They're calling us.”  
„Have you ever considered, if Odin and the rest accept us? I mean... were you ever religious?”  
„No. But we are Skelliger...”  
„...we reach for more” – his friend finished and they both laughed, looking at each other. – „You think, that it would be enough?”  
„If not, I'm sure, that they would figure it out with the gods.”  
„What do you mean?”  
“Have you ever tried to argue with your wife?”  
„You know, that we did.”  
„Exactly, when she was raging the hell broke loose. You think, that Odin would risk it? Ragh nar Roog impersonated?”  
„No” – his friend answered, chuckling – „no one would. But would she fight?”  
„Obviously, if only to get angry at you again, that you slept with someone else...”  
„Oh... you are right.”

They laughed again, approaching the children slowly. As they were noticed, it was Cillaen, who asked:  
„Grandpa, is it possible to sail around the world?”  
„Why do you think both of your great, great grandmothers point out their fingers to the North-West?” – he asked.  
„Oh... It's not Spikeroog?”  
„No, my dear boy. It's the right direction for anyone, who would dare to go beyond” – he replied.  
„I will” – Pantea stated.  
„I know you will. You are the sun, my girl, never forget that” – he stated with a smile.  
„Would you sail with me, grandpa? And you, grandpa?”  
„Maybe we will...” – his friend replied and looked at her fondly.  
„When our parents are coming back?” – Sheridan asked.  
„Soon, my dear. They needed to go with your grandparents to make sure, that everything is fine in the Eastern part of the Empire... The Realm you will inherit is vast, but you know that. „  
„I do... Since Queen Elowen and King Maelor, the Empire started to grow to take over everything from the Fiery Mountains in the East to the Great Sea far to the West from Skellige and from the Dragon Mountains in the North to the borders of Ofrir... I know my history...” – she replied in a serious voice.  
„I can see that. But do you want to know how it started?” – he asked and all of the children exclaimed enthusiastically:  
„Yes! Tell us!”  
„Aye...”

The story took them a few days, but in the end, they were done. Spending time with children always made him feel younger. Still, as he was observing Pantea, he thought, that they shall go with her to the West and probably don't come back...  
The evening after they finished the tale, they walked to the beach in Seidhedol. His friend stated:  
„Look at it now... the wealthiest port in the known world...”  
„Aye. It was a pleasure to watch them grow as they did.”  
„Even if they swallowed many...”  
„But it was different. They understood diversity, tolerance... they are inh'eid, after all.”  
„They did, but was it enough?”  
„I guess... we would never know.”

They sat together, looking at the beach for a long time. The waves were loud that day, as the strong, West wind started to blow. When he closed his eye, he almost heard her voice murmuring the words, which she spoke almost two hundred years ago, as she thought for the first time, that she was leaving him for good...

_Hush, hush, me mienne. You will go on with your life, a long and full life, as I wish for you. You will fuck and love many, many more men and women. This... will be only a memory, a good one, but no more. You still have a future, which is yours to take, don't waste it on grieving. I will meet my ancestors and I will have nothing to be ashamed of. I won a hundred fights and I did things, which have never been done before. I loved and I was loved. This is enough for a lifetime, me mienne. Sometimes, just sometimes, you'll hear my moan in the wind and sometimes, you will hear my ordering voice in the water and you will smile, cause you'll remember, that we did it. We were here, we changed things, we loved each other. We had it all. You were the one and we walked in the garden of the stars._

She was right and she was wrong at the same time. Remembering her always brought a smile on his lips, but... he never went on with his life after she was gone. Without her, he was only waiting for the chance to find her again... After all, it wouldn't be the first time and it always seemed impossible before it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the readers recommended music for this chapter:  
> Tony Anderson „Chasm”.


End file.
